#i just thought it would be nice to give positivity in either direction so everyone gets their praise even if they already did the game

[greenleaf4stuff]

Hi and thank you for the tag @gauntletgirlie! <3 The tag game is a wonderful idea, but I want to spread the posivity both ways. So um - I will do it my own way. Aka, I will give the person who tagged me compliments and also compliment the people I am tagging. That way everyone in this post gets the positivity they deserve I feel like. <3

@gauntletgirlie: You already write so well for someone who has just shared their own writing for the first time; I love the way you wrote Adar's and Celebrimbor's dynamic in your silverscars fic, the way Adar tried to keep his distance and Celebrimbor gently but insistently got closer to him and coaxed him into giving into his desires; you had me sitting there like "ohhh I wish this continued" and "I hope she writes more!" after I finished reading <3

Now for the people I am tagging (absolutely zero pressure to respond btw! I mean it! I am doing this because I want to, not because I expect anything in return!):

@plotdesigner Your lore and world building for the uruk is absolutely stunning and wonderful an I love every little detail I learn about them in your fic(s); I love the way you alternate POVs between characters and manage to give them distinct, individual voices and rich inner lives, even going the extra mile to write Adar in the 2nd person POV; you have a lovely way of weaving in little bits of humor that feels very adequate for the circumstances and also humanizes the characters a lot!

@themalhambird Your Adar/Finrod fic had some very well-developed OCs that were very distinct and interesting to read about, each had their own individual voice; the pairing wasn't something I thought I would be interested in but I finished the little fic before I knew what had happened; the way you wrote the interaction between the main pair was sweet and heart-wrenching to the point it made me emotional (I mean that as a compliment!)

@thephoenixandthecrocodile I love the dynamic between Adar, Celebrimbor and Narvi, they all have their strengths and weaknesses and complement each other very well, I love how you give each character weaknesses and humanizing elements that make them so very relatable; I think it is so cool that your first fanfic is a multi-chapter one and already goes on for so long - that is quite the feat! (and that your 2nd is also multi chapter and finished! Congrats!); I'd love to see more of the way your throuple develops Mordor together, the concept of a dwarven/elvish/uruk construction sounds so cool! and also what their relationship will be like in the future!

@gingeragenda The one fic of yours I read (Adar/Balrog) took a concept that should have been difficult to pull off and made it seem effortless; the interaction (cough) between the two was very sexy; despite the fact that the Balrog got sent out for rather sinister purposes, there was a tenderness that I did not expect between the two characters that I quite enjoyed while reading!

@wowstrawberrycow I love how you want to give Adar good, soft and cute things always, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside; I loved the dynamic between him and Gil-Galad in your AU fic, how Gil is taking care of him as best as he can and is a rock for Adar; love the worldbuilding so far, despite the dire circumstances, there is hope shining through and the two are fighting so hard to carve out their happiness. It's really fascinating!

I think I as a writer I am somewhere between "good most of the time" and "every so often I have a good line" tbh; my lovely readers, mutuals and friends on here make me feel like I am a very good writer (TYSM!) while I myself would tend to believe I am...okay? Maybe? If I have a good day. ^_^'

Writing compliment for myself...I manage to write and share my works despite a lot of self-doubt, anxiety and perfectionism? Does that count?

I want to do a compliment exercise. I got the idea from a poll I saw.

First, vote on this poll:

Now, reblog and tag 5 writers that you would want to see do this (no pressure, of course)... and in your CAPTION (not tags), give 3 compliments to the person you reblogged this from's writing. In your TAGS (not caption), put what your answer was.

Give yourself at least one writing compliment too, while you're at it.

If you reblog it from me, don't worry about doing the compliments since almost none of you have actually read my writing (if any of you have 😅).

If you really want to do the compliments for me, you can compliment something else but it isn't necessary when reblogging from the original source.

Let's get a compliment/positivity/love thread going. ❤️

[kajibunny]

⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well. 

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud. 

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you. 

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor. 

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa) 

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible) 

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[magpiepills]

Butterfly

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Neighbor Joel and his yoga girl neighbor have a little chat.

Warnings: SMUT! f masturbation, PIV, use of sex toys, reader can do yoga, blackmail? infidelity? Perv neighbor? Probably more. Unedited, unbeta’d, unproof-read. I type like that Kermit gif then post it.

A word from the author: idk friends. Here’s a bit more of what’s going on with pervert Joel and his yoga girl neighbor. I’m so grateful and happy that yall are enjoying this. There will be one more part!

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

The house had been quiet, with your husband picking up extra shifts and out of the house more, you found ways to occupy yourself. On a nice day, you decided a little yoga in the sun rather than your stuffy bedroom would be just what you needed.

You roll out your mat, open your app to follow along with a vinyasa flow, and close your eyes. You breathe deep, grounding breaths, melting into your stretches.

It felt good, made you feel relaxed and grounded and more in your body than in your head. It made you feel sexy to move your body, the ways you stretched. You promised yourself that this would be your new routine.

On the second day you felt a bit self conscious. You saw the shadowed silhouette in the upstairs window, your neighbor, a single man living alone, and apparently a fan of yoga.

You didn’t look at his window again. If it was a coincidence that he was looking out his window while you stretched and bent you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself. If he was watching you, you didn’t want to know that either. It made you feel nervous and giddy that your hot neighbor might be watching you bending over, spreading your legs, twisting yourself into suggestive poses. It didn’t stop you, though.

So what if he looked, right? You weren’t doing anything wrong, just exercising in your back yard. Nothing untoward or scandalous about that and Joel has never been anything but friendly and polite. If you got a small thrill along with your workout, all the better for everyone.

By the third day you were certain he was watching. He must have thought he was out of sight, down in the bottom corner of the window, but you spotted him, his graying curls, his dark stare that was glued to your every move. The window was empty when you walked the dog, when you got the newspaper from the porch, and when you walked to the mailbox, but as soon as you came out for yoga, there he was, like he knew your schedule and would wait for you.

You dripped into your leggings and added ten minutes to your workout. When you finished, you went inside and showered, taking the handheld shower head and directing the stream to wash over your throbbing clit, giving yourself an orgasm while you moaned his name and imagined him there with you. Your fingers couldn’t reach deep enough, didn’t stretch you the way you were certain that Joel would.

Later that night you’d tried again, pulling up porn with men like Joel; older, sturdy, deep voiced, confident. You edged yourself, pressing your vibrator against your clit, pushing just the tip into your clenching entrance the way you imagined him teasing you until you begged, then pulling away before you could reach your climax. You did it again and again, thinking of his chest and arms and the sweat that darkened his shirt when you’d see him mowing his lawn, and then crying his name into your pillow when you finally let yourself come.

It still wasn’t enough. There was no beard scratching your chest, your neck, your thighs. No hands on your hips, no lips on yours. Instead of satisfying you, it just made you needier, and that need led you to bolder and bolder deeds.

It was the dirtiest secret. Every afternoon you pretended not to see him while you positioned yourself for maximum exposure. Your ass toward his window, back arched, wiggling just so. You pushed your chest forward, nipples hard against the tight Lycra of your thin top.

You carried on, abandoning the illusion of good form to try to tease your voyeur, then went inside and imagined what he’d say when you rode him, or wondered what his shirt smelled like while you clenched around your own inadequate fingers. You considered standing outside and turning on the garden hose, putting on a little wet tshirt contest with you as the sole participant and Joel the lone audience member and judge under the very innocent and reasonable explanation that it was summer in Texas and you needed to cool off.

By day five you were masturbating before and after yoga. You were so amped up every time you spied him

In his spot you thought you might be able to come from just thinking about him. You fucked your husband before he left with your eyes shut tight so you could pretend he was your neighbor.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, beaming at you as he lay on the bed, having just been used as an unwitting prop in your sick fantasy. Maybe you’d feel guilty later. For now, you’d just feel cum leaking out of you while you held your knees wide open on your yoga mat and imagined it was Joel’s and that he was watching it trickle from your pussy before scooping it up with two big fingers and pushing it back inside.

If you’ve gone off the deep end you don’t care. Inside of a week you’d turned from friendly neighbor with a harmless crush to shameless trollop whose only thoughts came directly from her pussy. You'd figure out the implications and consequences later.

On day six you pulled out all the stops. You moved slowly and deliberately, making up your own routine of the most suggestive poses you knew. As you modified a butterfly stretch to lift your tits, you found Joel through your eyelashes and you would swear he had licked his lips. It broke something in you.

You feigned the heat was worse than it was, made a show of modesty, checking that you were otherwise alone, and stripped down.

The sunshine and the light breeze felt so good against your bare skin. You explored your body, running your hands over your hips and thighs and belly. You were sticky with sweat, and you felt prickly with all your pent up longing.

You skated your fingertips over your stiff nipples and down to your pulsing, needy cunt. If he was going to watch, you might as well give him something to remember. Maybe he would feel even a fraction of the fiery, desperate frustration you had felt.

You didn’t have a plan. None of this was planned. You slid your middle finger over your folds and spread your wetness over your clit and around your lips, feeling it cool slightly on your skin. You were just playing there, teasing yourself without serious intention, you decided you’d just do what felt good for a while, let Joel have a good long look, then go back in.

You knew he was there. You saw his shadowed silhouette. You hoped he liked what he saw, hoped he was touching himself, hoped he was imagining you on your knees for him. You edged yourself twice, careful not to make a sound above a heavy breath. You stroked your wet pussy, blinked your eyes as you breathed deeply, staving off your release, and let your eyes find his window, empty.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you’d let your pathetic, horny housewife delusions get the better of you and maybe you’ve just humiliated yourself.

Immediately you thought of your husband, your other neighbors, your friends, the rumors that would surely spread about the whore of Rancher Street. Panic and regret gripped you so hard you could scarcely breathe.

And then you heard it.

A groan, deep and stifled from the other side of the fence.

Play it cool, you tell yourself. You wrap a handy beach towel around yourself and put on a mask of curiosity and concern when you peek over the fence and find Joel slumped in the dirt. His cheeks are flushed, his cock is out, and he looks exactly like you’ve been feeling.

“Joel, what’s going on? What happened?” You ask, wide-eyed.

He stammers and hurries to cover his body, trying to minimize his embarrassment and the evidence of what he had just done.

“It’s not- it’s not what it looks like,” he says, “I’m just, uh, I’m sorry I just…”

“Just what?” you coo and drop to your knees to peek at him through the fence, “were you watching me, Joel?” You tsk, but flutter your eyelashes, watching with bubbling delight as he flounders, shaking his head, unable to come up with an explanation for why he’s on the ground next to a wide gap in the fence slats with cum on his jeans.

“I didn’t know you were a peeping Tom, Joel.”

It angers him, you calling him a peeping Tom. He stands quickly, then, turning to hastily zip back into his jeans, before stepping close to the fence and peering down at you.

“And I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist who was going to strip naked and touch herself right out in the open where anyone could see!” His voice is deep and hushed, but with a heat that excites you.

“You’re out here every day as soon as your husband leaves just begging for attention. Don’t act innocent now that you got it.”

“Only one watching was you, Joel. You had a front row seat, didn’t you?” you look up at him sweetly, putting both palms against the fence right about where his hips are on the other side.

Joel makes a low, rumbling sound and looks down, gripping the fence tightly. If he were a younger man he’d be hard again at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, fence or not.

“What about your husband? Does Marcus know you’re out here puttin’ on shows?”

You stand slowly and lift up onto your tiptoes, holding onto the fence between Joel’s wide, rough hands, leaving just inches between your faces.

“All he knows is how much hornier I’ve been this week. I had to ride him twice this morning,” you confess, looking right into your neighbor’s dark, searching eyes.

Joel nods softly, “But ya still had to come out here and act up, huh? Ain’t gettin enough?”

You hum in agreement, “you liked watching. Saw you every day.”

Joel hums back, eyes heavy lidded and dark.

“Well, what are we going to do about this?” he asks, and you take a step away from the fence, adjusting your towel.

“I don’t know, Joel. I think we have a problem. Marcus won’t be too happy if he finds out you’ve been prowling around. All I wanted to do was a little yoga in my yard. Maybe you’d better come over and figure out how to explain this.”

You don’t wait for Joel to agree or argue before turning to go back inside, dropping the towel that covered you and folding it over your arm, hips swaying tantalizing as Joel watches you disappear in your house.

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!

[underdark-dreams]

Thank you so much for your Tiefling smut contributions! I am so lovesick for Rolan and wanted to request--Rolan x fem Tav at the grove party? I know it's super early in both of their arcs but I can't help but wonder. 💕

Rolan x Fem!Tav (Unnamed)

Good Night For Company

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" Sometimes you need to feel lonely before you notice the person sitting right beside you.

Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Kissing, Accidental Cuddling, Feelings Realization | SFW

Word Count: 5,443 [Read on AO3]

Sometimes it was lonely to be the hero, she thought to herself.

Their camp was fuller and merrier than she’d ever seen it. Every last Tiefling she’d met at the Grove had joined them for a night of celebration, bringing along every last bottle of wine and spirits they could get their hands on as way of thanks.

Unsurprisingly, all eyes in camp seemed to be searching for someone else to spend the night with. Who could blame them? Mortal peril and hard-won victories tended light a fire in people, herself included. 

Yet somehow she still found herself short on options. Everyone at camp seemed more interested in clapping her shoulder in thanks than joining her for a night of abandoned pleasure. Even her close companions hadn’t taken much interest in what she had on offer.

Astarion was the only one who had made her an invitation. She practically felt grateful to him for it. He would tempt anyone, of course—just look at him. But underneath his beauty, there was a dark edge about the elf that made her hesitate in the end. How was it Gale had described him? ‘A tiger when it purrs.’ 

Honestly, she wouldn’t have said no to Gale, either. He was certainly attractive, and there was a sad weight to his shoulders that seemed to invite comforting. The kind she wouldn’t mind giving. Yet despite the lonely shine in his eyes, he’d made it abundantly clear to her in his loquacious way that his mind was elsewhere this evening. She left him alone to his private reflections.

She at least expected their own cheerful Tiefling to be smack in the middle of the evening’s revelry. Tonight, Karlach was nowhere to be found. Only when she later glimpsed Shadowheart’s tent standing dark and noticeably empty did she put the pieces together. 

Well, good for them. At least two of their group might have a chance at a lay tonight.

No such luck for her, it seemed. She raised the bottle of Ithbank to her lips and tried not to feel too sorry for herself. The last few days had been long, exhausting, positively brutal…her muscles ached from overuse. Really, a good night’s sleep should be more than enough to satisfy her. 

And yet—how nice it would feel to be touched and held with tenderness, even if it wasn’t real, even just for one night. Just enjoy a harmless tumble in someone’s bedroll before everything crashed around them again. The thought of the long road that would greet her in the morning made her groan, and she shook the thought away. 

It hardly helped her souring mood to see Danis and Bex practically sitting in each others’ laps in the middle of camp, gently knocking their horns together with affection. She averted her eyes and took a rather resentful swig of wine as she trudged past.

“Go on then, give us a show!”

Teasing laughter came from just ahead. At the edge of camp, she happened upon the three Tiefling siblings from the Grove. Rolan, the oldest, stood flexing his hands as if preparing for an impressive feat. As she approached, she thought for just a moment that he glanced in her direction.

His brother Cal heckled him mercilessly from the rock where he and Lia were perched. “Lose your nerve, wiz?”

Rolan sighed, long-suffering. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” Not leaving time for any more smart comments, he flourished his hands upward with a low incantation.

The effect was like tiny stars, or fireflies, or some combination of the two. Sparkling lights spread and popped above their heads, leaving behind a violet mist that gently faded into the night.

She found herself smiling up at the sky. It wasn’t a powerful display, but it was lovely nonetheless. And certainly unique. She wondered how one went about inventing a Weave spell; she wouldn’t know where to begin. 

Tucking the bottle against her chest, she offered a little round of applause. Cal looked over at her then and let out a groan of amusement. “Not you, now he’ll keep at it all night.” 

"Shut it," Rolan shot at him, positively glowering. Lia was clutching her side in laughter at his expense.

Two against one; that was siblings for you. She was in a newly generous mood after his pretty magic, however, and decided to lend Rolan a hand.

"Surprised you're still here," she said, cocking her head toward Cal. "Last I heard, Lakrissa was looking for you."

Cal's neck practically snapped with how quickly he craned it around camp. Lia turned her mirth on him, aiming a punch at his shoulder.

"As if, you idiot," she chuckled. "She's only about ten times out of your league."

"You don't know that," Cal told her, completely thrown off teasing his brother as he rose to look around the party hopefully. "She told me I had a good parry one time—I could have a chance—"

As he wandered off, Lia threw up her hands and rose to follow him. "Guess I'll go save Lakrissa. Or maybe just watch what happens. Nice one," Lia added over her shoulder, grinning appreciatively at her. 

She and Rolan were left standing alone to the side. There was some awkward shuffling of feet; somewhere past the campfire, Volo launched into his third stanza of Tymora's Melody. A song to make people lucky, she seemed to recall. A suggestive choice for the night.

"Drink?" She broke the silence, offering out the bottle of wine. Relief flooded Rolan’s face.

"Gods, please." He accepted and took a generous pull.

"You certainly have your hands full with those two, don’t you." She bit back a grin at the way his brow crinkled in response.

"They are…" Rolan cast around for the word. "Challenging. But I don't have to tell you that," he added, glancing sideways at her. "We were bickering the first moment you met us."

"That's just family, though," she laughed, taking the wine back from him. Their fingers brushed together slightly over the bottle.

“Nevertheless. My thanks.” He waved his hand in a general motion, but she could tell he meant her intervention before. 

“Don’t mention it,” she told him. 

Seeking a reprieve from the merry music and voices around them, her feet idly made their way toward the edge of the fire's light closer to the riverbank. From the corner of her eye she saw Rolan follow. They settled on a log of driftwood that faced the scenes at camp. 

"So, you're finally making your way to Baldur's Gate," she said. It wasn't a question; he'd already told everyone who would listen about his apprenticeship with Lorroakan of Ramazith.

"Finally.” His eyes glowed with pure enthusiasm. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. The slightest delay has felt like an eternity.”

“And Cal and Lia? They must be excited, too.”

“Of course” he said, though his lips raised in a little smirk. “They’ve never been to the Gate, so they don’t quite know what to expect. But they’re just as eager.”

She watched him for a moment as she turned the bottle over in her hands. "You're quite sure of yourself, aren't you."

Rolan looked at her with a challenging expression. “Tell me, in our position, what else is there we can be sure of?"

He almost made her regret herself. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you’re very—”

“I expect most wouldn’t guess that a hellspawn could earn a position under the greatest archmage on the Sword Coast,” Rolan said before she could finish. 

His moods were volatile as a storm; turning this way and that without warning. She was never sure what to expect from him. Before she could protest his assumptions about her, he continued onward.

"We three never had much between us, you know." Rolan’s voice was abruptly low and bitter. "Somehow we've got less now than we started with. Not even our birthplace anymore. The one thing I’m sure of is my magical talent. I'm not going to deny it for the sake of being modest—" he tossed the words out with contempt. "Not when it's the one thing I always knew I had in spades. With the right instruction, I could be inimitable."

She studied his determined profile in the half-light of the campfire. Perhaps there were more layers to his self-important attitude than she'd thought. After all, without him taking on the challenging role that awaited him in the city, Rolan and his siblings found themselves in much the same position as the other refugees milling about camp tonight. A heavy weight despite his obvious enthusiasm. Who was she to judge him, or any of them?

Rolan finally caught her watching him and cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I think I've—had too much wine."

"Oh?" She gave the bottle a swirl; it was still more than half-full. "You're making pretty good sense to me."

"I don't usually speak so freely with strangers," he explained tersely, glancing away.

She pondered the comment over another sip. "Does that make us friends, then?" She asked, not sure if she was being serious or trying to tease him. He did seem like he'd be awfully fun to tease.

"That's a little premature," he said dryly, but he glanced at her with a serious look. "Though I suppose, given recent events, you've earned it."

"A roundabout way to say yes," she laughed. "But I'll take it."

Rolan only made a low, grumpy noise in his throat. But he didn't challenge her.

“I’m really glad you three stayed, you know,” she told him. “I know you were against it. It certainly wasn’t the easy choice.”

Rolan plucked a bit of dry grass from between his boots, twisted it between his fingers. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Once Lia gets an idea in her head to save some poor thing or other, there’s no arguing with her. And she knows I'd never leave her behind.”

"You say that, but anyone with eyes can see the way those two look to you for guidance. They would've followed you down either path."

"Not like us staying even made a difference," Rolan deflected, tossing the ball of grass onto the dirt in front of them. "We only lost a few more traveling days waiting around while you and your friends took care of everything. For which, I suppose, we owe you thanks," he finished sarcastically.

"I suppose," she said lightly. But she was looking straight at him.

Rolan was clever enough to realize he was being chastised. He let out a sigh, but dipped his horns to her in resignation. "Thank you."

She only smiled at him and offered back the wine in response. He accepted without comment.

Watching him tip back the bottle, she mentally fit another piece to his puzzle. "You don't like feeling powerless, do you?"

Rolan looked sideways at her. "Does anyone? Do you?"

"No," she replied, feeling a little foolish for asking. When he passed it back, she drank deeply from the bottle, grounded by the burn that traveled down her throat.

"That must make your situation difficult." Rolan was watching her almost cautiously, as if the subject should be carefully tread.

"The tadpole, you mean?" She spoke it aloud, not wanting him to feel any suspense about the subject. How the thought could fill her with dread and a kind of dark humor at the same time was beyond her. Maybe the worm in her brain was finally driving her mad after all.

"First I had to talk Nettie out of giving me a lobotomy. Then I thought the renowned First Druid Halsin might be able to heal me, but no luck. I even thought that crazy goblin priestess could have something up her sleeve." She gave a mirthless laugh, starting to feel the weariness closing around her again. "Suppose I just need to keep searching, right? Halsin thinks we might find answers in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Or maybe the cure is in Baldur's Gate. Who knows," she added, glancing over at him. "Maybe your Lorroakan could know the solution, if he's as powerful as you say."

"He is," Rolan answered automatically. His luminous eyes were sharp with enthusiasm as he watched her. "When you get to the city, come see me at Sorcerous Sundries. If a cure exists, it'll be recorded somewhere in the library of Ramazith’s Tower, I'm sure of it. I’ll even research it, if I have time."

Inwardly she hoped they'd all be cured far earlier than that. But she was touched by his sudden helpfulness, even if it was half to prove the powers of his new station. 

“Thank you, Rolan,” she smiled. “I appreciate it.”

He dipped his horns wordlessly toward her again. It was a gesture she was beginning to recognize, and grow rather fond of. She offered him their wine bottle in thanks.

From there they both let the moment drift. Seated on their log near the riverbank, she turned to watch how the rest of the revelry was progressing. Alfira had joined Volo in some kind of bardic duel; a rapid-fire melody drifted out to where the two of them sat. Lia appeared to be bravely trying her luck with Lae'zel. Judging by Lae'zel's very non-subtle body language, she was actually getting somewhere. 

And to her disbelief, she even saw Cal and Lakrissa sitting together at the fire, engaged in what looked like a very friendly, very close conversation. Was it seriously everyone's night but hers?

She glanced to Rolan's face at her side. He wasn't paying attention to her; his fingers rolled the neck of their shared drink idly back and forth.

It should've occurred to her sooner, honestly. Despite Rolan's initial bluster, she found it surprisingly easy to speak with him one-on-one like this. He had a depth she hadn't noticed before. 

And he wasn't bad to look at, either. Golden eyes set against inky black, strong jawline, lips that often curved up in a little smirk that she wasn't sure he deserved but found charming despite herself. She decided to dispense with caution and just try her luck.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?"

“What?” Rolan's head jerked around as he stared at her. "Why?"

"I don't know," she admitted. Maybe this was a bad idea; the shock on his face made her question her own boldness. But then she thought of his pretty spellwork. "Because you're the only person who's made me smile tonight."

Rolan examined her expression as though trying to tell whether she was joking. "We barely know each other," he said slowly.

She gestured her head toward the crowded clearing. "I mean, I didn’t know any of these people a few weeks ago. And now look at us. We’re practically family at this point.” She turned back toward him. "Besides, maybe I'd like to get to know you better?"

Rolan cast around for a response to that. "I suppose you're not…unattractive," he conceded. Although the nervous movement of his fingers gave him away a little.

"Know how to make a girl feel special, don't you," she laughed. "Look, Rolan, say no if you don't want to. I'm not after anything serious. It's just a good night for some company, and honestly, I’ve enjoyed talking to you."

Rolan was considering it; she could practically see his mind ticking between his options. "You're quite tenacious, aren't you?" He told her, the hint of a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

"When I want something," she agreed.

Something in the words seemed to tip his decision. She watched Rolan's eyes flick down to her lips.

Taking that as a yes, she tilted forward to press them against his. His skin was warm and softer than she expected. Rolan didn't move against her, in fact was practically frozen still. She couldn't tell whether he was inexperienced or just out of practice. Regardless, she pulled away to look at him through her lashes, checking his expression.

This close his golden eyes almost seemed to blaze. She watched them move over her face, taking in her features up close. When he realized she wasn't going to initiate again, Rolan leaned in for another kiss.

Definitely not inexperienced, she decided, as his lips slid and moved softly over hers. She breathed in and smelled smoke and wine and something spiced; a pleasant warmth coiled in her stomach. He sighed into the kiss, apparently feeling something similar.

She felt a tentative hand rest on the side of her waist. Without breaking from him, she scooted sideways to get a little closer, inadvertently pressing her leg up against his. Rolan made no objection, only circled his arm further around her back.

It was the nicest feeling. Being held by a firm yet gentle touch, sharing kisses that flowed from sweet to eager to shy and back again. How long had it been? The longer Rolan's mouth moved over hers, the less she cared about remembering. 

She hooked her arms over his shoulders to keep him close. As she tilted her chin for a better angle at his mouth, she took a chance and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Rolan’s fingers dug slightly deeper into her side, but his lips parted to allow her in.

She felt a thrill run through her as their tongues melted together. They tasted each other softly for a moment; unconsciously, she combed her fingers up through the hair at his nape.

Rolan broke away gently at the feeling. She grew suddenly shy when their eyes met again, and she cast around for something to fill the silence.

"Why do you hide your ears behind your hair like that?” She wondered aloud. “They’re lovely." As she spoke, one of her index fingers went to tuck a lock of his hair back behind the long, pointed arrow of his ear, grazing against it with curiosity. Before she could blink, his hand caught hers to pull it away.

"Don't—" Rolan said abruptly, then let out a nervous laugh to break the tension. “Tiefling ears are…quite sensitive.”

"Oh," she said. His meaning sunk in the rest of the way. “Oh—I’m so sorry, I didn't realize—" The heat of embarrassment on her cheeks could have melted her.

"It’s all right,” he told her, laughing genuinely now. “Gods, your face is almost as red as mine.”

Rolan was even more handsome with a real, true smile on his face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one there before. Before she’d found a response, his grip on her wrist was gently pulling her arm over his shoulder, and her body closer to him with it. 

She decided another kiss would shut up his teasing nicely. She followed his lead and then some, wrapping both arms around his lovely shoulders, melting against his lips again. He said something against her, but the words dissolved into a hum that sent a pleasant shiver down her back.

Finally, Rolan succeeded in pulling away to glance back toward the center of camp. "Sorry," he said breathlessly, and it sounded like he truly was. "I just—don't want you to face uncomfortable questions in the morning."

No doubt his siblings' teasing was another factor, but she didn't call him out on it. While she appreciated his chivalry, all she could think about was getting his mouth under hers again.

"We could go to my tent?" She suggested.

For all the cockiness he'd spouted from the first moment she met him, she felt Rolan's hands almost seize up around her.

The feeling made her bite back a grin. "I'd just like to kiss you some more," she said, tracing her thumb against his jaw. "We don't have to do anything else. It would just be more private. And more comfortable."

Rolan licked his lips, unsure. “Won’t that be even more obvious?”

“I don’t think this crowd’s going to notice much at this point…” She turned with arms still around him to look over the scenes near the campfire, and Rolan's gaze followed. The generous flow of alcohol was taking a clear effect on most of the faces gathered here and there. Around the fire’s edge, Alfira was leading many of her fellows in a rousing ballad that she didn’t recognize. Most voices were noticeably off-key.

“Come on,” she invited Rolan, rising with one of his hands in hers. He made no protests as she led him around the edge of camp, trying to stay out of the more obvious sightlines, and towards her empty tent. When she held the flap open for him, he ducked in quickly without a word, and she followed.

Inside, the light from the roaring campfire filtered dimly through the fabric walls. She watched Rolan’s luminous eyes glance around, taking in her personal effects, finally landing on her open bedroll. He swallowed hard. 

“Just sit,” she told him, guiding him by the arm down beside her. They settled side-by-side on the blankets. Somehow the mood between them was back to the initial uncertainty of before, as if they hadn’t already shared a score of kisses.

“Your tent smells like you,” he said out of nowhere.

"Really?" She chuckled, but the observation somehow made her very nervous. “Not sure if I want to ask what my smell is.”

“Balsam.” Rolan didn’t elaborate, only dipped his head swiftly to place lips under her jaw. Her laughter dissolved into a sigh of pleasure. Clawed hands snaked up around her side and down over her shoulder, tipping her torso into him. She let her head loll to the side to give him all the access he could want.

She’d forgotten all about his sharp incisors. As he kissed down the side of her neck, his warm breath sending a cascade of shivers over her spine, one of his fangs grazed her bare skin by accident. Her sharp intake of breath surprised even herself. 

Rolan pulled away to look at her, uncertain if he’d done something right or wrong. She used the moment to capture him in a kiss again, sucking and nibbling on one side of his bottom lip, letting him know how right he was getting this.

She sank sideways into her bedroll, pulling him down with her with hands clasped behind his neck, trying to be mindful of his angling horns.

Rolan's arm rested comfortably over her side, nails whispering against her back as he held her. He was so gentle like this; so unlike the way he presented himself to others. The thought that she was seeing a side of Rolan most others didn’t get to see—she liked that thought very much. She tangled a hand in his hair as their kisses turned soft, and lovely, and almost lazy.

The security of his arms around her in her soft bedroll, the alcohol making its way rapidly to her brain, the exertions of the day straining along her limbs…she felt herself drifting toward a state of relaxation almost like sleep. She roused herself, wanting to kiss him back while she had him here. She wasn't sure when they'd get a chance like this next.

But Rolan gently disentangled their mouths for a moment. "Here," he said, scooting his arm under her neck like a pillow. She leaned against him with a comfortable sigh. 

"Your arm's gonna fall asleep," she warned him, making no moves to shift the weight of her heavy head.

Rolan chuckled low in his chest. "I think you'll be doing that first."

She wanted to make a snappy response, but all that came out was a petulant groan against his lips. 

This wasn't going at all the way she intended. She wasn't supposed to doze off, she was supposed to kiss the Tiefling wizard until he saw stars, like the ones he'd conjured for her.

Because he had conjured them for her—she told herself that with certainty, whether or not it was true. The sweet thought carried her toward sweet dreams, and the memory of them behind her eyelids was the last thing she saw before she drifted.

—

The call of an owl nearby pierced through her sleep. As her mind surfaced in the darkness, the first thing she was aware of was the pleasant weight of an arm across her. She sighed and settled comfortably back into the warm figure pressed up against her hips and shoulders. The mystery arm pulled her in tighter in response.

Things began slowly filtering back to her; the party the night before, and the wine, and Rolan, and—

Her eyes opened wide then. The interior of her tent was so dark that she could only make out blurry shapes. Outside, she heard nothing but crickets and a few more distant owls hooting; it must be well past midnight. The fire hadn't been tended for hours, judging by the absence of light reaching through the fabric walls. Presumably the rest of camp had all turned in long ago. 

With the nervousness of a person who'd fallen asleep from drink, she shifted around a bit to confirm that yes, she was very much still fully clothed. Her toes flexed against hard leather; even her dusty boots were still on her feet. That answered that question, at least. She glanced down at the clothed arm over her stomach.

"Rolan?" She whispered through the dark. 

She felt and heard his lips mumble something against her hair, and then Rolan's face nestled deep into the crook of her neck with a happy sigh. The intimate gesture made her bite her lip. She could feel his steady breaths tickle against her collarbone. 

However much she might want to let him stay right there, forever, she knew she should wake him.

"Rolan," she whispered a little louder. Twisting a bit to free the arm under her side, she reached to gently pat the spot between his horns. She felt his hair rustle freely under her hand; its orderly tie must have come undone in the night.

Rolan inhaled sharply awake then. He lifted his head from her as if trying to cast around for where he was.

"We both fell asleep," she whispered, stating the obvious. She felt him tense up behind her as he took in his body's positioning: chest pressed against her back, one arm cradling her neck, the other wrapped tight around her waist to keep her pulled in close to him. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she even felt his tail twined around one of her legs.

Every part of him retreated from her at once as he lurched into a half-seated position. "I'm sorry," he apologized in a groggy whisper.

"It's fine," she assured him, wondering why he would assume she didn't enjoy the closeness as much as he clearly had in his sleep. "I think everyone else is asleep by now."

There was a long, quiet pause. Then Rolan began, “Did we…?”

“No,” she interjected with certainty. 

"Thank Gods. I mean—" He cast around in the dark for one of her hands, realizing how that came out. "We both drank a lot, that's not how I want—it shouldn't be like that."

"I know." The sweet goodness of him made her heart swell.

Suddenly, Rolan grabbed his head with both hands. "Fuck," he hissed. "Lia and Cal."

"What about?"

"They'll know I didn't come back to our camp last night," he groaned low.

"Oh—okay," she said, trying to think; her brain was still fuzzy from the night's wine. "Well, maybe they'll just assume you got back late?"

“You don't understand, they know that I—” He cut himself off, and finished, “They already tease me about you.”

“Oh." She did her best to ignore the way that made her insides do a happy flip. But she couldn’t resist teasing a little herself. “Then maybe they’ll just assume you finally got lucky?”

His head fell against her shoulder with a groan, horns lightly knocking against her. “Please,” he begged.

“Sorry, Rolan—” She was instantly contrite, holding his head close to place kisses across his hair and forehead. "Listen, we've got an hour or two before dawn. Maybe you can sneak back and they won't know how late you were out. Where's your camp?"

"The bluffs just outside the Emerald Grove, with Lakrissa and the bard."

She knew the spot; they could easily reach there in a quarter hour on foot. But first, she scooted away and undid the flap of her tent to peer out for any signs of activity.

Everything outside was very still. She watched carefully for another moment just in case; near Wyll's tent, Scratch snuffled and buried his snout further against the owlbear cub's feathers. Beyond that, there were no signs of stirring in the camp.

She ducked back inside the tent for a moment. "C'mon—"

With quiet, shuffling feet, they crept out into the quiet moonlit night. Scratch's head raised silently in their direction. She stared into his dark eyes with a silent plea, begging him to be a good boy and stay quiet. He lowered his head back down without a sound. She swore to herself that she would find him the biggest, juiciest bone in the morning. 

She grabbed Rolan's hand behind her and tugged him quietly through camp. They passed tent after tent filled with steady breathing, boots padding against the dirt in near-silence.

Once they were outside the ruined wall at the edge of the campsite, she let out her pent-up breath in relief. 

Rolan kept his fingers twined firmly with hers as they walked through the moonlight. They talked about anything to fill the air, about things that didn't matter, both trying to stave off the impending end of their short night together.

Far sooner than felt fair, they rounded into a familiar clearing, and she knew his destination was just up the hill to their left. 

"Well," she began, as they slowed to a stop.

Before she knew it, she was pulled against Rolan’s chest in a tight embrace. She folded herself into him as completely as she could manage, breathing deep and committing his scent to memory.

When they broke apart, he kept her close so he could see her face in the moonlight. "Which route will you take to reach the Shadow lands?"

"Through the Underdark if we can," she answered. "I wasn't sure about it, but we all took a vote after the fight yesterday. What about you three?"

"I don't know," Rolan said honestly. "It depends how Zevlor decides. We're all going to travel together as far as we can."

"Oh," she said. She ought to say something reassuring about how that was a wise tactical choice, but she was overcome with the realization that she might not see Rolan again for many weeks. Possibly not until they both reached Baldur's Gate.

In that moment, she fervently regretted not fucking this wonderful man into tomorrow when she'd had the chance—wine be damned. From the way Rolan was looking at her, she wondered if he was thinking the same.

Instead, she leaned in to kiss him one last time with everything she had. She wanted to remember the way his shoulders fit perfectly under her arms. Rolan’s grip closed around her middle, and in the next instant she felt her feet dangle weightless as he lifted her off the ground into him.

The kiss had to end eventually. As he lowered her onto her feet, she touched back down to dirt and reality. 

“Your hair,” she gasped suddenly. It hung loose to his shoulders, his red ear tips poking from between the locks. It was a very handsome look for him.

Rolan raised a hand up in realization himself. “I’ll figure something—” he began, but she was already tugging at the leather lace that fastened her shirt. She raised it to her mouth to bite off a short length.

Before he could stop her, she stood on tiptoe to gather Rolan’s hair behind his head the way he usually kept it. Her arms circled him as she tied it halfway back with the makeshift string. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she steadily avoided meeting his gaze. She foolishly felt like she might cry if she did.

“There,” she sniffed as she pulled away. 

Rolan only gave her a gentle smile. “Thank you,” he said, dipping his horns to her one more time.

Telling him goodbye hurt just to think about. “Good night,” she whispered to him instead.

“It has been,” Rolan agreed. “The very, very best.”

[thatanimeramenchick]

Headcanons for Vox and Alastor both falling in love with an extremely powerful Overlord known as the Pink Death, she is called that because she's thought of as an incurable plague that consumes and annihilates everything she comes into contact with and she's a Pink Bunny demon and she's so powerful all the other Overlords, even Zestial are terrified of her, since when she arrived in Hell, she killed every Overlord that existed in that time and took their powers?

Incredibly Powerful Reader

Since this is a yandere blog, this will be done with that in perspective.

I also want to do this with the mindset that it is impossible to technically permanently kill other demons without angelic weapons. It is true that Alastor has made other demon overlords “disappear,” but I feel like it’s implied that he has somehow destroyed them in a way that is much worse than death, perhaps in a horrific existence in between realities? I don’t know. Anyway, I feel like the killing people with diseases temporarily and being a major threat is still an interesting view though. The complete toll you could have on demon and sinner society by wiping them out in waves whenever you felt like it would give you a lot of power in hell.

Anyway, when it comes to the guys, I see them actually sharing quite a few things at first.

Both of them would hope that their experience and ability to play manipulation games would allow for them to outsmart you, even if you are significantly more powerful than they are. Whether they actually do or not depends on you and your personality, but I could see them getting the upper hand if you’re not careful, especially Alastor.

Both of them also would hope to win you into a contract that allows them to have you under the thumb, but they would present it as giving you a power boost to help you clinch full power over hell. The details of this contract and their way of going about it will differ, but ultimately that is the goal each of them would have.

Vox

Media thrives on disaster. You’ve created a gold mine of content for this man. His interest in you would simply start out as using your story to promote his own company, and it would later turn into an obsession. Considering how the Vees are able to stay safe during extermination day through extreme isolation, I don’t think he would be too worried about the infection for similar reasons, simply being annoyed that it’s hurting the company as it’s messing with staff and therefore production.

If you decide to reject him, he can paint your powers to his advantage, threatening to use the media to paint you as a monster that hell needs to rally against at any cost. On the other hand, he could offer you a sweet deal if you want to get along nicely with him. He could make sure that everyone knows you’re the most powerful overlord in hell and that you should be respected and admired as well as feared. This is when the contract comes in, where he gets to portray you how you’d like as well as provide comfy living arrangements as long as you are willing to work alongside his company and only his company. He’ll make sure you’re on a higher position in the company than the underlings, considering how much power you have. Oh, and he’ll add a little clause that you’re not to turn your nasty tricks on him either.

Alastor

Alastor is more cautious than Vox is. While I see Vox as going the direct approach with you and a clear plan of aggression, Alastor would take his time, watching you from the shadows. He would want to get a clear idea of your personality and all its strengths and weaknesses before approaching you. Last thing he would want to do is simply irritate you.

I feel like his approach to you would be somewhat similar to how I think he is approaching Charlie. You are young and so perfectly easy to influence. Your potential is overflowing, surely you don’t want to waste it? If are just willing to submit to his ideals, he could make you the greatest overlord of all time, as well as gain total control of hell. The contract would be along similar lines. He would not rush the business like Vox would. He doesn’t want you to think he simply wants to use your powers after all. You have to feel like you’re giving in willingly because it benefits the both of you.

He would be subtle in his affection. He would make it seem like a business contract, but as you got entangled deeper and deeper in a mess you would come to see that he has a much more possessive and controlling relationship with you than you first thought. The details of the contract that at first seemed to exist to gain you some extra experience and security now seem like chains keeping you attached to a master has no intention of ever letting you become independent in your own right.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting 'harsh' with a friend because being 'nice' wasn't working?

I(23X) had a friend, F(29X), who was in every DnD game I played in and ran. I had thought we were close friends, but eventually noticed that there was a pattern of behaviors while playing DnD with them, both as a fellow player, and as a DM, that just didn't lend well to collaborative play, and made the game less fun for everyone else at the table. I attempted to gently and indirectly bring this up with them a few times, without being accusatory(they had told me they did better with indirect communication b/c direct communication made things feel worse, so I was trying to accommodate them). After multiple months, and multiple attempts at communicating indirectly with them with no visible changes to how they went about things I did attempt to gently, but directly, bring my concerns up with them. I, and others, were having a difficult time enjoying playing DnD with them because their playstyle wasn’t very inclusive of everyone else at the table, and made other players feel like side characters/unimportant to the story/unimportant to them in general.

I did make sure to stress that 1) I didn’t think any of what they were doing was malicious, I didn’t think it was intentional, but either way it still hurt people, and I would appreciate it if they worked on those things and grew as a player. And 2) I didn’t expect immediate change or perfection, I know growing and implementing positive change is a continual process and takes time. I was willing to wait and let things take time. They requested bringing a couple of other friends(28M & 30F), we’ll call them ‘D’ and ‘V’, in on it, and asking them their thoughts and opinions. They did their best to mediate, and agreed that F needed to change how they approached play at the table, and D started DMing a game with both of us(and some other players as well), in order to be able to see first hand if the things F was doing were actually an issue.

F did not take the request for growth and change well, and became very upset with me about it on multiple occasions during discussions F started. I never saw improvement, and in fact noticed that they seemed to get markedly worse in the areas I asked them to work on. When I pointed this out after a DnD session that D was DMing where they seemed to act very petty and passive aggressive towards me the entire time, and asked why they behaved the way they did, F did not respond and instead blocked me on all social media, but has told other people that I was ‘harsh’ and ‘emotionally abusive’(I never said anything cruel, and the harshest I got was when I stopped cushioning my requests in order to coddle their feelings and just bluntly stated that I needed them to work on their selfish and hurtful behavior towards me and others.) F then went crying to D about how I was attacking them out of nowhere and not giving them adequate time to improve. (Added context here being they had messaged me the night before the DnD session in question to talk about things more, and had agreed to continue that conversation later when it got too late at night to continue, so they had known we were going to keep talking and had agreed to it.) D then asked me and my partner, W(24X), if we’d noticed any issues with how F was playing. W had been listening in on the DnD sessions and had a list of things F had done specifically to spite me, and when they pointed it out D agreed that it was a pretty big issue and started noticing it in the sessions afterwards. Things blew up when D decided to confront F about how they were treating me, F accused me of emotional abuse, and quit the DnD campaign D was running after accusing both him and V of being inherently biased from the start. (Both D & V had privately admitted to me that they’d actually been harsher on me than on F up until that point, because F had been misconstruing the situation to them and making me out to be much crueler and harsher than I ever actually was, which they realized after a different friend, C(19F), confronted F about the situation and saw F blatantly lie to her face about things they knew I had not said or done.)

I lost a couple of other friends because they'd only heard F's side of the story and think that I was a huge and cruel asshole who's willing to treat their friends cruelly over something that is 'just a game'. I personally don't think I did anything cruel, but just in case... AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[kindnessoverperfection]

Feel free to ignore this, but I'm a disabled writer who tends to focus on representation in my works, and I came across your posts about having npd while doing research for a side character in a story of mine. I really appreciate you taking the time to write out a description of npd that shows the roots of the issues and the way they affect the people who have it rather than how outsiders perceive it. I just wanted to ask if there were any traits of npd that you personally would like to see in npd representation/ if you have any thoughts on how you'd like to see characters with npd represented in media? I know at current there's basically no positive npd rep, which sucks for sure, but in a hypothetical situation where there was a character with npd who wasn't villianized for it, what sort of aspects of npd would be comforting for you to see reflected in a story?

Once again, feel free to ignore this ask if I'm overstepping at all, and I hope you have a wonderful day <3

Hi!! ♡ Apologies for the late reply, I wasn't on tumblr for a few days, then my alter was out for the next couple days and I wanted to be the one to respond-

I really appreciate that you're taking the time to research and create thoughtful representation, and I'm glad my posts could offer some help with that!

My first two thoughts are:

Characters whose symptoms present differently than the common portrayal of NPD

It's super common for people to not recognize NPD because they have this very limited view of what it is and how it can present - so it would be nice to see representation that shows variety in the way it can manifest.

For example, it's actually very common for someone with the disorder to primarily "lash in" rather than "lash out", but I never see that represented (intentionally, at least).

There's also a very limited perception of narcissistic characters being blatantly arrogant, grandiose, braggy, selfish, power-hungry, etc. But really, there's an unlimited number of ways someone can present outwardly, because the only thing that's crucial to the diagnosis is the internal experience - how it affects the person who has it. How they appear outwardly to others can vary wildly.

(I'll admit, some of these "stereotypical NPD" characters feel very relatable due to shared symptoms and vibes and power fantasies. To the extent that I have one of them as my pfp on some accounts lol. But if you met me IRL, my vibes are just "confident and bubbly, polite, quiet and distant, fashion-oriented, straight A student, cutesy, braggy, adventurous", and I always make the effort to be kind to people even though I can be somewhat distant and goal-oriented.)

It's also common to think of someone "flying into a rage" when they feel criticized - but anger (whether external or internal) isn't an inherent part of it. The issue is that someone perceives criticism as a threat, so their fight/flight/freeze/fawn response kicks in, and there's a large multitude of ways that can show up.

(Personally, I go into either fight or fawn mode. But the vast majority of the anger I've felt has been entirely self-directed, manifesting in the form of self-criticism, self-hatred, self-destruction, overworking, eating disorders, etc. I will occasionally feel outwards anger, but when I do, I give myself time and space to process it by myself so that I don't upset anyone. And even for those who feel external anger much more often than I do, it doesn't mean they'll express it in an aggressive or harmful way.)

tldr; I'd love to see a variety of outwards presentations, with the NPD being shown via their internal experience, rather than only displayed through stereotypical external behaviors.

2. Humanization for characters with NPD who make mistakes

People with NPD are human just like everyone else, which means that mistakes happen. Everyone accidentally fucks up, hurts someone, lacks self-awareness in certain areas, etc.

The level and type of interpersonal struggles, and the reasons behind these struggles, are all across the board. That's understood with any other disorder (or any sort of identity), but there's so much extra baggage and stigma applied when NPD is involved for some reason.

So for characters with NPD with higher interpersonal conflict, I'd want them to be humanized in the same way that anyone else with any other identity would be humanized. And I'd also want it shown that characters who don't have NPD can have high interpersonal conflict as well, that it's not limited to this disorder.

"what sort of aspects of npd would be comforting for you to see reflected in a story?"

In terms of specific aspects-

Personally, I'd love to see a character who like... tries to be perfect. Is externally very put-together in some way - maybe they're very kind and soft-spoken and sweet, or they're silly and happy and energetic, or they're quiet and serious and protective, or calm and mysterious and self-assured, doesn't matter. But everything seems okay on the surface.

But internally, they put so much pressure on themself. They hold themself to impossible standards, and feel like they HAVE to be seen a certain way and never show weakness. They have to handle everything perfectly. Just... so many symptoms and struggles that are hurting them internally, and overtime it ends up bubbling out in small ways, or like. Tbh I'd love it if someone would just... notice.

Notice the perfect bubbly happy straight-A student who's always kind and never shares their own opinions. Notice the quiet, highly-skilled protector of the group who somehow always knows the right thing to say and the right way to act.

And give them permission to be imperfect. To be human. Show them that they aren't their reputation or their skills or how impressive they are, they're so much more than that.

They can see the pain they're in, and instead of treating them as this untouchable perfect being, they treat them in a human way.

The super bubbly character seems completely unaffected by recent tragedy? Okay. Their friend doesn't ignore that. They don't push and prod, but they don't ignore it. They sit with them, spend time with them, hold them, they know it affected them.

I'm imagining a scene where the character w/NPD fucks up somehow, and they seem fine, but someone close to them suddenly Realizes and they just. Go to find them. And they're just having a massive breakdown, but the moment they see their friend, they quickly try and shove everything under the surface and act cool and unaffected and "normal", but their friend goes over and just holds them and. Ungh. 10/10

Couple months ago I did actually see an episode of a show like that, and both times I watched it, I bawled my fuckin eyes out lol.

Different people may have different answers in terms of what they'd feel most comforted by, but for me personally, I'd love this so much, because this is how I present and I desperately want to be Seen and Loved and have someone see my self-worth as being inherent and not tied into how "perfect" I am.

Closing thoughts:

Personally, there's not much that I'd feel offended by. To be honest, in addition to characters who fit the above points (various presentations, average-level interpersonal conflict, etc.), I also write characters who have that "stereotypical" presentation. I don't think there's anything wrong with it as long as it's not done maliciously, especially if there's other types of characters shown. (Similar to having both gay villains and gay protagonists or side characters, y'know)

The only thing I'd dislike / that would hurt my feelings is like... seeing a character be heavily demonized for their traits*, or the only characters with NPD being horribly abusive, or the usage of stigmatizing language (aka, if the character is spoken about the way buzzfeed articles speak about us).

*aka, demonized for the symptoms. Totally fine if someone does something shitty and it's pointed out as being shitty / if people dislike them for that lol.

Hopefully this isn't getting too long, but to give an example of what I mean, something I saw that did hurt my feelings was like-

There was an episode of a show where a character got super braggy and confident, and was relishing in the praise and admiration she was getting. Hinging her self-worth on that recognition and success. And her friends got annoyed and pissed off, simply because she was braggy. There were a couple of things here and there she did that were kind of insensitive, but that was never really pointed out or seen as the main issue, it was only her bragging that was being demonized for some reason.

And then her friends all ganged up behind her back and did something to intentionally trigger a crash and make her feel insecure and terrible about herself, all to "knock her down a peg". And the narrative framed that as being justified, framed her friends as being correct in this situation. They never once showed concern for her mental health or the fact that she was hinging her self-worth on other people's opinions of her, they tore her down for her bragging instead of either a) supporting and uplifting her, or b) showing concern for unhealthy mindsets, and they never even tried to approach her or communicate with her about the things she was doing that actually were insensitive.

Hopefully that wasn't too much of a tangent lol, but that's the type of thing I mean by "being demonized for their traits". Hate when all a character is doing is bragging and feeling good about themself and the narrative frames them in an extremely negative light for it :(

Okay I will wrap up the post here as it's already pretty long, but hopefully this helped a bit!! Thank you for the question, and good luck with your writing! ^^

[reinedeslys-central]

more!! again!! for the nico after blood of olympus fic!! actually I thought of this while writing the last one but I just finished it.

His elbows buckle and he lets himself fall into Will, snorting at his theatrical groan under the weight. They lay there for a second until Will shoves him gently, and Nico lets him manoeuvre them into a more comfortable position.

"Hi," he whispers, moving a curl away from his cheek. The greenish tint of the loft window casts a weird shadow over Will's face.

"Hey yourself," Will murmurs back, winking.

Nico rolls his eyes. "You look like Apollo when you do that. Please stop." Will squawks in protest.

"I do not! Also, since when do you remember what Apollo looks like? Actually, no, don't answer that, you can't bring up my dad while we're in bed, Nico, why would you do this to me?"

Now it's Nico's turn to sputter and whack Will in the chest - getting another dramatic oof and a laugh in return - before turning around to face Hazel's bed. He's not sure when he'll ever be able to sleep facing the wall. Will can't do it either.

As Will's arms curl around his waist and draw him back against him, just like they did back in the infirmary that one day, he thinks maybe he'd be okay trying that with him sometime. One day, in a house with gates, no longer wary of monsters.

Will noses the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. "What is it?"

Will's answering smile presses through the rough cotton of his t-shirt. "Nothing, sunshine."

Nico frowns under the covers. "Hey, what do you think of houses with gates?" He whispers.

"Gates? Well, it'd be safer, I guess, but we'd lose the neighbours coming over -"

"As if you want to see random people at the door anyway. What if they're monsters?"

"Oh, come on, darlin', I'm from Austin. Of course I gotta keep space for the neighbours to come knocking."

"…Fences? Actually, hey, why'd you assume I was talking about us? Obviously - Obviously I was talking about random. Random houses. For architecture reasons."

Will muffles his laugh into the back of his neck, again. "Oh, my bad. And I'm only here because you ripped a stitch on the lava wall yesterday."

Nico feels his ears warm.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"..Still."

Will reels him in closer until his back hits his chest and he can press a soft peck to Nico's still-red ears. "I think a fence is a great idea, by the way. We could ask Hazel for help with some ward stones too, like you have in the cabin. Gotta make sure we've got at least one window and standing space in every direction, though, or at least in the east, because you know my dad would sulk if he didn't get to scream me awake in the morning."

Nico's blush gets worse.

"Now who's talking about your dad in bed?" He gives up on pretending. Will sees him through every time, anyway. "Also, shrines, obviously, and we need a spot to stargaze."

"Yeah, shrines, obviously. Maybe just yours, mine, and Lady Hestia's though, or else everyone else is gonna get pissy."

Nico barks out a laugh like it's shocked out of him. "Pissy? Don't let them hear you say that."

Will holds him tighter and settles against the pillows. "Sure thing, sunshine. Now can we sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah."

It's not long after that that Will's breath evens out behind him, his muscles untensing. Nico knows he's got a few minutes yet, so he thinks.

Today was…. good.

Today was nice. Normal, even. Just a day of camp schedules, working in the infirmary, an admittedly short campfire, and this. No monsters, and no mistakes. No deaths, but..

Unbidden, the moments in the infirmary come to mind. He thinks of helping Will scrub in for his one surgery of the day, a kid that had gotten parts of an arrow stuck in their leg a week ago and hadn't noticed til yesterday. He thinks of yesterday during capture-the-flag, stepping in and desperately trying to copy what he'd watched Will do, because Lydia was hanging crooked from a tree and there was no one else around but him-

He thinks of Patroclus tying the straps of Achilles' armour, watching his lover sleep peacefully. He thinks of what Connor had told him about at the campfire weeks ago, of Silena Beauregard taking on a drakon when Clarisse declared the Ares Cabin wouldn't be fighting.

He thinks he might understand.

Lydia wasn't the same (thank the gods), but if there was something to be done that only Will could do right, yet couldn't, and the only way Nico could take up his mantle would be to die trying - then, yeah. He'd do whatever it would take for these kids. To do what Will would do. He's gone to Tartarus already, hasn't he? At worst, he'd try his best and greet his father early if he failed to survive. Nico could even give Charon a tip on the way in for the hell of it, why not?

If there is a luxury that comes from being a child of Hades, after all, it is that dying is not the thing that scares him.

There's a brazier still lit outside the window. Its glow falls in slits across their bed.

Will grumbles, pushing his feet forward until their ankles are wound together. The sheets shift.

Nico smiles into the dark, into the chirping of crickets and the soft glow of the fireflies out the window, and falls asleep.

more for this fic:

scene 0 - prologue-ish scene 1 - the library of social awkwardness or here (or in my heart, 'kidney function is not a right, it's a privilege' lol)

general writing directory

also lmk if you want more lore. I am so down to talk about this fic + the worldbuilding ideas I have for it in the notes it is unreal

[crguang]

fav hcs about kafka and black swan?

sfw? let me think… off the top of my head:

kafka not being able to cook is a favorite of mine idk why. the idea of her being terrible in the kitchen while having a picky palate is funny. at most, she can grill and boil things and make simple dishes but she can’t replicate the meals she prefers to eat and that’s just funny to me

she loves jazz. this one just makes sense to me i feel like she can listen to almost anything but if she were to control the aux some jazz would be in her playlist

she knows flower language and a bunch of pager codes

can tie a knot with her tongue

prefers calling over texting because she lowkey loves to talk. if you text her she might not answer but if you call the chances of her picking up are higher

has the habit of moving her index finger around or in circles when she’s lost in thought, like she’s conducting an orchestra

most of her favorite coats are custom made/designed

takes a whole day when she’s shopping because she’s super picky. still ends up with five bags worth of clothes and is always on the lookout for new ones no matter where she is. speaking off, everyone knows her pin cause they need to be on the lookout too (she has multiple credit cards. keeps track of each one)

her favorite lipstick color is peach with a little pink in it

gets quiet when she’s disappointed, sad or annoyed. tho she’ll also petulantly whines and tsks when she’s annoyed (my big baby)

not a words of affirmation girlie if you can’t handle her only telling you she loves you four times in a lifetime just end things😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 master at deflection, if you ask her if she loves you she’ll say shit like “isn’t it obvious?” “what do you think?” girl

SWEET TOOTH. IDC IDC she never says no to cake DIRECT FIREFLY QUOTE. she loves her lollipops

spine tattoo yup… a rose’s stem with thorns ive seen it personally

for swan let’s see…

somewhere on some planet she’s immortalized in art and doesn’t know it. for the amount of times she appears to people in reality or in dreams, i just know there’s an artist who had to draw/paint/sculpt this spirit they swear was tangible one second and disappeared the next

swan is very easy to remember because she stands out a lot by both her looks and her behaviour. people may not know that she’s a memokeeper, but she’s in a lot of people’s memories regardless

i don’t think her being a little stalker is a hc but i’m adding on to it so it kinda is… it’s one of my favorite things about her it’s just so funny to describe it that way 😭 all memokeepers are stalkers by default but swan is a very curious soul, she gets invested and ends up having to reveal herself because she just has to have an interaction with whoever she’s interested in

unlike most memokeepers, swan doesn’t discriminate in terms of what memory holds value. she sees value in everything. she’s more drawn by the feelings attached to memories than the memories themselves sometimes. a moment of quietude where nothing is said, all is still and everything is felt? so nice. she extracts it

she can call her s/o every pet name under the sun and somehow not be cringe about it. it’s a super power. maybe it’s because she’s so sexy and that voice is so sultry that if she called me some shit like “baby cakes” i’d giggle

some of her favorite moments are when her s/o is just about to fall asleep. i feel like she’d love to be the reason they get a good night’s rest and it’s story time (she loves telling stories)

a gift giverrr, since she sees value in all discarded and overlooked things it’s not rare for her to bring back objects that “have witnessed a lot” and that she thinks her s/o would like

fav cuddle position is being on the bottom with her s/o on top of her

she is soooo calm. so zen. so good at dealing with stressful people and stressful situations. not above giving her s/on a nice massage either but thats just an excuse to get her hands on them

doesn’t feel thirst or hunger but she does have a favorite drink. i dont know what it is but i know she has one ok. she was drinking a little too often with acheron

might indulge you if you ask her to show you her memokeeper tricks. mostly the stuff about her getting into tvs and billboards and paintings

loves to dance even if it’s just twirling her s/o around in the living room

smells like incense or specific candles

she lovesss touch and physical contact. always touching her s/o in some way. when they’re alone she takes off her gloves for it

i cant think of any more but i probably have a thousand that i write in unconsciously honestly

[kayedium-writes]

Homegrown

MCU | No Warnings | Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanov | 614 Words

Read here on AO3!

( Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: midnight distractions )

It was just past midnight as Natasha leaned back on her hands, her palms meeting the cool metal of the truck bed. Her legs swung aimlessly as the crickets chirped in the grass below. 

“So, this is where you grew up?” Steve asked, the gravel beneath his boots crunching as he brought her a drink from the cooler.

“More or less,” she said. There were a lot of places Natasha could categorize as ‘where she grew up’ but Ohio was the only one that conjured up a positive memory. She gestured with the plastic bottle toward the road in front of them. “Technically, I grew up on the other side of that tree line.”

Steve joined her on the tailgate, draping his flannel shirt around her shoulders. Late summer in the Midwest meant packing for blazing afternoons and brisk nights, but catching a flat tire on the way back to the rebuilt compound from Clint’s meant they hadn’t exactly prepared for that. Too bad neither of them had thought to check for a spare, either. 

Really, if she hadn’t suggested they make the detour, she’s pretty sure they’d be closing in on Buffalo by now but Steve’s curiosity got the best of them both and that left them waiting on a tow. 

“It’s definitely different than where I'm from.”

Natasha glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Because it’s not Brooklyn? Or because it’s not 1925?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well... Both.”

“Sorry we aren’t all fossilized New Yorkers,” she said, giving him a playful nudge with her shoulder. 

“Y’know, the world would be pretty boring then.” He flashed her a smile. “Seems like a nice place, though. Peaceful. Laid back. No one getting rundown on the sidewalk. No taxi drivers screaming at ya’.”

“You’d have to actually have a sidewalk to get rundown on one.” She took another sip of the Coke before passing the bottle back to him. “But it was. All of those things. I’d race the neighbor kids down the street on my bike. We had barbecues. Went to baseball games." She pointed to the few twinkling yellow lights bouncing over the overgrown switchgrass. “And Yelena and I used to just lay in the yard and try to count the forest stars—that’s what she called the fireflies—in the trees. There were always so many of them…”

She felt a pit in her stomach just thinking of her sister. Yelena was out there. Somewhere. Probably alone. And Natasha had no idea where that 'somewhere' was. That was the only thing on her mind since they’d brought everyone back after Thanos. After everything they went through to take down the Red Room, she hated feeling like she’d abandoned her again.

He wrapped his arm around her tighter, pulling her snug against him as he let his chin rest against her head. “We’re going to find her. I promise.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m counting on it.”

There was a certainty to Steve’s voice that made it so easy to believe him. And after all these years, she did. 

As she sat up to look up at him, the near-blinding yellow and white flashing lights of the tow truck came into view over the hill. Steve slid off the tailgate to his feet and waved a hand in the air to direct them to the field they managed to steer the truck into.

“Think they’re going to recognize us?” Steve asked over his shoulder.

Before Natasha could make a wager, they both heard the driver through the rolled down window choke out, “Holy shit! It’s Captain America!”

Natasha laughed as she joined Steve’s side again. “Something tells me they will.”

[stormycs15]

⸻ Topside, Male Oc x Reader ⸻

chapter one: (Everywhere the light touches)

characters: female reader, Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, enforcers

genre: fanfiction, Arcane season 1

summary: Life has been hard for you're friends and family in the Lanes. Doing odd jobs to get by is second nature for you, but will one job topside really change your lives?

word count: 2496

Previous / Next

Your POV

I held onto the pipe I was climbing, my hands sweaty as I tried with all my strength to pull myself up. The pipe groaned under the weight I was placing on it. I swallowed, rethinking this idea. Once I reached a good position, I turned and looked around with hesitant eyes. I had to squint to see the extravagant town in front of us, since it was a bright and sunny day. Looking down, I noticed it seemed higher than I thought it would. Vi was taking us so high, and I was newer to this, so I felt like my actions were very clumsy and slow. But that didn't stop me. I looked up slightly, meeting Violet's eyes. She nodded down at me. I pursed my lips and hoisted myself up some more, gaining some confidence.

“We are almost there, come on.” She grunted at everyone, trying to encourage them, and I followed her gaze, looking down at the three underneath me: Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. They all seemed to be struggling to climb the vertical building. I just returned my thoughts to climbing up the pipe with ease.

“Aw, man!” I could hear Mylo groan, not the happiest about this situation. I quickly ignored his complaining and followed Violet up the rest of the wall. I reached the ledge, pulling myself up with strained lungs. I got to my feet, looking in awe at Piltover. My breaths were heavy from the climb.

“Woah.” I could hear Powder say from next to me, making me look over and give her a small smile as she returned it. We barely got to see the top side.

“It’s nice to get above it all, huh,” Violet says as my attention turns back to the clean trees and buildings that lay in front of us like an entirely different world. As everyone got up onto the roof, a large blimp flew past us. I looked at the view in complete awe.

“One day I am going to ride one of those things,” Powder says under her breath in a determined tone. I looked at her with a smile, I knew how much she was infatuated with seeing the new world, as much as I was. I probably fed her fantasy a bit since I told her the stories my father told me. I placed my hand in her hair, ruffling her blue locks.

“And one day I’m going to shoot one down,” Mylo says, pointing a finger gun at it as if to shoot it down. But I just roll my eyes, pushing his arm down silently. My attention was brought to Claggor as he looked over Piltover nervously. We weren’t supposed to be topside… Vandor made that very clear. Calyx��wouldn’t be happy either, more because we didn’t invite him.

“Vi, you sure about this? If we get caught…” Claggor starts to say, and I turn to her with a hesitant nod, not liking the plan, because it would be more than just Vandor mad at me.

“We aren’t going to get caught. We will be in and out before anyone even notices. We have [y/n] after all.” She says, going to the edge of the building, looking for the town square, trying to figure out where we were in terms of finding out our jobs location. I gave a nervous sigh, letting it get lost in the strong winds that were flowing over the buildings. Violet looks to me with a nod, and I step forward, eyeing all of the possible paths on the way to our destination.

"How long is this going to take? I'm hungry," I hear Mylo say from behind me. After another second passes, I point in the direction of the town square, already having a path in mind. I turn to Violet for her approval, and she nods at me.

"Alright then, everyone, follow [y/n]... and just don't look down," she says as I jump into action, sliding down the roof onto an apartment balcony. I stand on the poles of the balcony railing and motion for them to come one at a time. Violet comes down first, leaping over the gap with no problem. I turn, seeing Claggor about to slide down, but Mylo brushes past him with a smirk, making Claggor roll his eyes and follow right behind. By the time Mylo lands on one side, Claggor lands right next to him, cupcake in mouth.

"Couldn't we have just walked?" I hear Claggor ask from the other side of the gap.

"Gotta stay out of sight for this one," Violet says, looking back over at us. I am trying to get Powder to go next in case she falls; maybe I could save her. But she is just looking down and taking deep breaths.

"Called it! This is on you, Vi," Mylo says, referring to Powder, and I glare over at the male.

"[y/n] can carry her over," Claggor says, motioning to me, but Violet holds up her hand.

"No. Powder, look at me! What did I tell you... you're ready. So you got this." she says, looking at me, and I nod at her as Powder starts to get ready to jump off the roof. Keeping herself up with a small gasp, jumping over with ease, she gets to the other side, only to come up shorter than the rest. I could see Violet's eyes go wide, reaching her hand out, but I sprang into action and leaped over, catching Powder before she could fall backward. She looks up at my taller self, giving me a thankful smile. Us three girls sigh in relief.

"Thanks," I hear her say, regaining her balance as we turn to the others. I just nod. As we walk, I could see Mylo rolling his eyes at Powder and me. I reach my hand out, shoving him back, making it so he was walking behind Claggor. He was starting to get on my nerves. I start to lead them by shimmying along the edge of the rooftop. I focus on keeping my back glued to the wall, leading the others.

"What if Vandor finds out we are all the way up here?" Claggor asks, earning a few looks from the rest of us silently agreeing with his concern. I just keep moving, knowing if I stopped now, I would definitely turn back. I hear Violet sigh, annoyed, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Look around! Do you think anyone topside is going hungry? Besides, this is exactly the kind of job Vandor would have pulled at our age. He is probably sending Cal on missions like these. I'm going. Are you with me or not?" she asks, stopping and turning to look at them. I look down, not wanting to look at the others. I could hear no protests, so I stood my ground from the front as she took up the back.

"Vandor's going to kill us," Claggor says behind me. I nod at his comment. Even if this mission goes well, we're bound to get a good lecture from the man himself.

"Only if we screw up… So don't screw up," she says with a stern look before turning to me and nodding. I return the gesture and lean forward, catching myself as I land on the balcony below us. I peer through the doors and listen… it seems no one's been home.

"All clear," I signal to the others, indicating it's safe to hop down. They descend one by one. Mylo, eager to get to work, tries the door but finds the handle won't budge.

"Who locks their balcony?" he asks, pulling out a lockpick and getting to work. I turn to help Vi with the rest of our team. Claggor and I glance over the railing, exchanging frowns.

"There are a lot of enforcers down there," he says. I nod, scanning for possible escape routes.

"That means we're in the right place," Violet remarks. She turns to Mylo, "You going to get that door open anytime soon?"

"Working on it," Mylo says, aggravated. I remain quiet, not wanting to add pressure. "Seeing as I'm the only one who knows how to pick locks, I suggest—" But before Mylo can finish, Violet strides forward and kicks the door open. Mylo flinches, startled by her sudden action. Claggor brushes past him as he follows Violet into the apartment, with Powder close behind.

"Animals…" Mylo grumbles, turning to me. Seeing my outstretched hand, he reluctantly takes it. I help pull him up before we enter ourselves. I glance around, furrowing my brows—this place seems fancy, but everything's arranged in a chaotic order. Everyone soon disperses, exploring the room.

"You know, Claggor, for once you're right. We are definitely not supposed to be here," Mylo says with a mischievous grin. He admires the place, greedily rubbing his hands together before examining some gadgets. I scan the bookshelves but find nothing interesting. Spotting a few gadgets on a small table, I examine them briefly before tossing them into the bag in the middle of the room.

"Must be an inventor," Vi muses. I turn to see a huge chalkboard covered in equations and blueprints. Squinting, I try to make sense of it all. On the desk beside the chalkboard, I notice a book and pick it up, flipping through its pages.

"This man is either crazy or a genius," I mutter, struggling to decipher the scribbled hypotheses and outcomes.

"Whoa, I think this is a real Valdiani," Powder exclaims excitedly. I look over to see her holding a small object that opens and plays a delicate jingle. Gently closing the book in my hands—but not letting go—I approach her to admire the intricate invention.

"Oh yeah? What about this?" Mylo asks with a smirk, brandishing another gadget he clearly thinks is valuable.

"That's a nose hair trimmer," I say with a giggle as Mylo's face falls at my words.

"Keep an eye out for anything valuable, Powder. Before the boys fill the bag with junk," Violet says, making me chuckle. I reopen the book, reading it and wondering if I should bring it with us.

"Uh... guys?" Claggor comments, drawing my attention to a mechanism on the desk covered in papers. I blink, staring at the blue stone placed in its center. As I approach it with the others, my hand moves of its own accord.

"Wait, Vi... How the hell did we find this place?" Claggor asks, looking at the pink-haired girl. As my finger nears the stone, I feel a zap and wince, pulling back my hand. The tingling shock courses through my body, but I can't tear my eyes away from the blue stone.

"It was a tip from Little Man," I hear her say, and I roll my eyes.

"Little Man?" Mylo asks in disbelief, questioning our decision to trust the small boy's information.

"Just leave it. C'mon," Vi says harshly, finally breaking me out of my trance—though my eyes still linger on the small blue orb. I shake my head and return to searching the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Powder start to walk down a hallway.

"How can anyone have so much stuff?" I hear Claggor ask as I follow Powder, overhearing their conversation.

"Simple, just get born lucky," Mylo says, making me huff in amusement and roll my eyes. As I reach the hallway, I notice papers pinned to the wall. Examining them, I begin to understand what this person might be creating. Approaching the room, I see Powder opening a chest filled with the same blue stones as the one I just encountered. As I'm about to move closer, I hear footsteps. I freeze, then quickly retreat to the others.

"Psst," I hiss quietly. Vi turns to me, eyebrows furrowed. I nod urgently, and she frowns.

"Mylo," she says quickly. He springs into action as I dash back down the hallway. Mylo wedges a chair against the door handle.

"Powder, we've got to go!" I hiss. She flinches, grabs the stones, and follows me as I hastily tidy up. I help Vi gather our loot, but as I'm lifting the bag, an explosion rips through the apartment. We're thrown across the room. I slam into the bookshelf and crumple to the floor, groaning and clutching my stomach. I push myself up to see Violet already at my side, ready to help.

We've definitely been discovered. The balcony starts to give way, and I help Vi ensure the others are secure before we hear screams from below. I swear silently, staring at the spot where Violet and I had just been standing—now a gaping hole in the floor stories above the street.

We spring into action, running. If we don't move now, we'll certainly be caught. Violet motions for me to take the lead, and I don't hesitate. I guide us out of Piltover, Enforcers' shouts echoing behind us. I dart around a corner, gesturing for the others to follow. The pursuers close in as I round another corner, feeling more confident as we near the underground. I wrench off a sewer lid and motion for them to enter.

"Oh man, not again! I just got this shirt!" Mylo yells as Violet kicks him down the putrid shaft. Claggor follows, then Powder. I dive in after them, with Violet close behind. I land hard on my side at the bottom, hissing through clenched teeth.

"I thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this," Mylo complains. I roll my eyes, shifting into a sitting position.

"Well, this time's the last time," Vi says harshly, her annoyance with the boy's complaints growing.

"Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?" Claggor asks. Everyone turns to Powder and me. I furrow my eyebrows.

"I don't know… I didn't do anything," Powder says defensively.

"Yeah, come on. We all didn't expect the owners to return so quickly," I say, earning an eye roll from Mylo. My face falls and I clench my fists.

"You could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do," he mumbles. I stand up, ready to knock some sense into him.

"Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses," Vi says, gathering everyone's attention. Everyone smiles but me. We might have done that, but we got caught in the process. There's no doubt trouble will come for us—or be waiting when we get back to the Lanes. I sigh, shaking my head as I walk out of the trash chute into the underground.

[crimsoncold]

Polls, Plans for a Future ASOIAF art series, and some Criticism of Antis and thoughts General Fandom etiquette ...

First of all thank you to anyone who participated in my poll on which pair of House Stark characters have the most underrated/underappreciated similarities or paralells (and for so many of you for taking the poll in the spirit it was intended and staying respectful in your tags- I always worry about that as part of the asoiaf/got fandom, particularly being a Sansa-stan and Jonsa shipper in general)

I was using this poll as a bit of research/inspiration for a future art series I wanted to do (there are just so many possible paralells/comparisons that I find intriguing or emotionally compelling, but i can only devote so much time to one specific art piece/series and was really struggling to narrow down the specific character pairs I wanted to focus on- hence the poll I made!)

So after getting an idea about which parallels resonate with people -and feel are underrepresented or unappreciated by fandom- and holding to the idea that if you want to see something specific or rare discussed or done in fandom/fanfiction/or fanart sometimes you just have to do it yourself ... I've checked the results and have decided I'm eventually going to do a cross-generation art series exploring certain characters' narrative parallels/similarities to eachother as well as a tribute to any canon relationship they have to one another...

It will include a Sansa & Ned piece, a Robb & Lyanna one, and lastly an Arya & Catelyn one.

Side note I'm also thinking of doing a separate Jonsa art piece that focuses a bit on the many ways their plotlines/arcs/dreams mirror one another.

(It's all going to take awhile- a few months probably but I'm very excited and I've already started brain storming ideas)

Ok now that I've expressed my appreciation and shared the more positive outcome from this poll now I want to take a moment to vent a bit about some of the negative backlash, address my general stance on antis, and give a little reminder about general fandom etiquette...

(I've tagged this accordingly so I'm unsure that any of the people this is directed at/could benefit from reading this will ever encounter it... but still I think its important to put it out there- even if only because it allows me to process my own thoughts and feelings on the matter)

(This may at times come across slightly bitchy- I'm alright with that but I decided I'd preface this by emphasizing... This is intended as a criticism of toxic stans... it is not the condemning of a specific character/certain character parallels, and it is not criticism of people who are simply fans of said character in general... everyone understand that? Good lets move on)

So I'm sort of feeling darkly amused about how (with I think a single nice exception?) the comments made on this poll (even multiple in a row from one user) were people wanting to complain that I chose to excluded some pair/parallel that they prefer ....

Instead of taking... what 10 seconds?... to read my explanation around why certain pairs were excluded from the poll- which would have apparently saved them a lot of grief...

(I.e. its not that the parallels between these pairs aren't present OR that I don't think they are meaningful... it's simply that I feel those sets of characters are very high profile and are frequently discussed in terms of their parallels by a significant portion of fandom and thus should NOT be included in a poll meant to consider underappreciated Stark character parallels)

...And then say deciding to either take this poll in the spirit it was intended (once again... to consider what is the most underrated/underappreciated stark paralells? NOT to focus on or reiterate some of the most talked about ones in all of asoiaf fandom?) or choosing to simply scroll past if they weren't interested in the options/design of the poll..

They instead chose to have a hissy fit in the comments about how offended they were that Lyanna was listed as having parallels with any Stark kid other than Arya (not just Sansa- which unfortunately is not exactly an unexpected response but apparently the idea of Robb + Lyanna having paralells was also deeply offensive. Who knew? I would have expected all the house stark boys were completely immune to the unecessary hate/criticism/dismissal that so much of fandom and many arya stans gleefully direct towards Sansa)

Or took the time to explicitly complain that I didn't include Arya being compared to.... whoever? Ned and Jon I think, maybe others? I've forgotten their explicit instructions on all their arya stan approved comparisons. Because isn't it sooo biased of me not to include these pairs because clearly Arya is the only character who can rightfully be compared to Lyanna or Ned... even in a post explicitly about parallels underrated by fandom!!! These commonly discussed parallels absolutely NEED to be an option even then... and if it isn't it has to be because the person who made it is prejudiced and biased-not because the pair/character parallels dont actually fit the poll criteria.

Really this just further justifies my disappointment in certain types of stans and makes me feel I wasn't being pessimistic or jumping at shadows when I listed my second reason for avoiding including those as pairs in this poll (i.e. wanting to avoid devoting space to pairs/paralells that bring out the worst in certain toxic stans- i just dont need to deal with that and neither does anyone else)

...when I say that certain character parallels bring up weird defensiveness/unpleasantness/stubborness in fans .. well these people choose to respond to such a statement by just literally proving my point.

If you dont like this poll instead of leaving comments to complain about it and its creator maybe go make your own Arya centric one?... would that not be a better use of your time? Or are you so lacking in creativity/the ability to think critically and express yourself persuasively that you can only ever complain about the content other's make and never actually be a productive or positive member of fandom through creating your own content?

All your actions do is make it less enjoyable to read or discuss said popular character or character parallels... you actively drive people away from the fandom discussion around your favorite characters/character parallels... which is an interesting choice to say the least.

I would love to plan out fanart that explores both the major and subtler ways the stark sisters echo both of their parents and even each other... but I am hesitant... Arya stans like these totally just reinforce both my concern that such content would not generally find acceptance/appreciation and my certainty that I would not even simply be peacefully left alone to explore or share these ideas without toxic stans invading my blog to bitch to me about... i don't know? How I'm awful for choosing to taint asoiaf things that sacredly belong only to Arya by including/linking them to evil incarnate Sansa or fandom nobody Robb? That I'd dare malign someone as precious as Arya by having the audacity to think or say that she has similarities to the useless female characters Sansa or Catelyn?

I'm a fan of all the stark kids (including Arya- i love the Stark sisters and wish more fandom discussion around their relationship was based in empathy and nuanced consideration rather than being mostly vitriolic and obviously biased) but stans like this make me not want to branch out beyond the more Sansa/Jonsa centric circles or content... because at least with this part of fandom I encounter people used to seeing/experiencing rudeness or outright harassment and who are not interested in behaving that way themselves (notice people weren't up in arms and taking to the comments in outrage about me choosing to not include and list Sansa and Catelyn parallels ... almost as if Sansa-stans don't harass or criticize people in their own posts... unlike many others I could list)

(including me!!!! I tag my content/art as in depth as possible not just to make it easy to find but also as a curtesy to be easy to filter or block for those who aren't interested in certain fandoms/ships/or even my art and content in general

I wish these people would remember that fandom is a hobby and we do this because we enjoy it... curate your fandom experience, scroll past things that don't interest you/filter any tags you want/block content or blogs that you don't like or don't care to see.

I am doing my part!

I am not willfully invading/infecting your space in fandom with my terrible interest in the starks/sansa/jonsa... use your damn filters and/or block my blog ... don't leave nasty comments for me or the other people to see)

Seriously!!!! Don't waste your energy on negativity, or your time on being rude or purposefully invading specific fandom spaces just to criticize and argue with people in fandom who you disagree with

... because I'm not going to engage with you or argue with you or in any way validate/reinforce your shitty behaviour, I'm not going to sink to your level by invading your blog or your posts to complain about you or your interests... I'm going to block you wearing a smile (just one less unpleasant person to run into in this fandom)

and lastly I'm just going to continue to post/enjoy all the characters/topics/ships that you hate.

and if I complain about what you've done or use it to emphasize my stance on specific antis or fandom conduct in general it will be only ever be in my own posts on my own blog- without explicitly identifying you/referencing your blog/or directing actual harassment or negativity towards you ... (I'm not going to make you feel justified in your negative opinions about/harassment of sansa-stans, jonsa fans, or just literally anyone in fandom who you disagree with... I'm not going to give you evidence/ammunition to slander or smear segments of fandom you consider undesirable... I'm just not going to lower myself the way you do... i have more respectful for myself and for other people in fandom... I'm content to let you look like the asshole and never have to think about you again)

if you failed to develope the ability to give enough of a shit about other people to be respectful in fandom spaces, filter and block accordingly, or at least be civil in your interactions please have enough respect for your own free time and at least care enough about your own emotional well-being and happiness to start acting this way ... Swear to god this will make things more enjoyable not just for others but for yourself as well

Now I'm going to go back to reblogging/making fan art of things I like... because it makes me happy and I don't wish to invest anymore time on negative things or negative people.

- Crimson Cold

[moonferry]

what's that? fsioy chapter 9 you say? preposterous!

omg hi guys i finished this chapter teehee. as much as i hate to say it, this is the last "good" chapter until kent gets back. shit is going to hit the fan and its going to hit HARD. so .. prepare yourselves. enjoy this softer one because ive had this idea since i created danny.

warnings: none!

word count: 2831

summary: it's been three months since kent's enlistment and he's adjusting to life overseas pretty easily. he recounts his "first day" and then has a heart to heart with a friend to cope with homesickness.

ao3 link: here

other chapters: chapter masterlist

July 19XX, Soldier’s Quarters – Middle Of The War

It had been three months since Kent arrived. He had managed to survive basic training and was appointed to border patrol. However, with Danny pulling some strings, Kent was soon moved onto the survey corps with his two friends - Danny and Lee. Getting used to the rigid structure certainly took some time, but he found his body was adjusting quite nicely. Kent noticed his body began to wake before the 4 a.m. wake up call. He used these 15 or so minutes to relax, simply taking a moment of quiet to himself. Other times, he would spend his spare moments writing down the events that took place and drafting letters to Jodi.

However, he could never forget his first “actual” day: Kent, who had been previously accustomed to waking up at 7 in the morning, was quite surprised when the morning bugle horn sounded at the heinous hour of 4 in the morning. He was even more confused that the general in charge of his cabin referred to it as “‘oh-four hundred hours”. He groggily pushed himself into a sitting position, looking around and noticing several other recruits appearing just as confused as he was. The older soldiers appeared used to it and immediately sprang into action, practically leaping from their bunks and beginning their daily tasks. 

“C’mon, Kent,” A familiar voice called from the bunk beneath him. Kent looked around and tried to determine who was speaking. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and allowed them to focus on Lee, who was already grabbing a spare uniform and tossing it in Kent’s direction. “We’re going to be late,” Lee grumbled, jumping as he struggled to get his pants leg over his socked foot. 

Kent scooped up the garment and inspected it: it was pretty basic, just a simple drab, olive green uniform. There was a small patch on the side that read “cadet” followed by a blank space. Kent assumed that his name would likely take that spot once he received his official uniforms. The garment appeared slightly faded and had a musk to it - as if it was either extremely old or had been worn by various people before him. Neither option particularly appealed to Kent. 

“Seriously, dude,” Lee called once again, causing Kent to shake out of his stupor and glance over at his friend, “Danny will kill me if we’re late. He hates it when people are late - and I’m always late.” 

Now that Lee mentioned it, Kent hadn’t noticed Danny amongst the bustle of people in the cabin. Maybe he got an early start? Kent shook his head once again, clearing the thoughts, before hopping down from his bunk. He glanced around nervously, noticing everyone else seemed to have no qualms about changing in a room full of people. Kent wasn’t exactly self conscious, but he wasn’t exactly eager to strip down in front of strangers, either. He glanced at Lee once again, who was giving him an impatient look, and sighed. He would have to manage. Kent undressed quickly, slipping the uniform on almost as fast, and followed Lee towards the cabin door. 

“Where are we even going?” Kent asked, looking around as he followed behind Lee. The two walked away from the cabins, deeper into the woods. There was a small gathering of people - surrounding a stage of sorts - and Kent wondered what was happening.

“Initiation, man. You and the other recruits need to learn how things work,” Lee explained. He continued walking towards the crowd - which was only illuminated by a few torches surrounding the stage. It was still quite dark, the sun just barely beginning to peak out from the horizon.

The two approached a lanky, dark haired figure. Kent squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and soon realized it was Danny. However, Danny seemed to have a small frown spread across his features and his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Seriously?” Danny grumbled, glancing at Lee in an accusatory fashion - though Kent noticed there was no malice behind his eyes. He shook his head and let out a small sigh, “Late again. As usual, Lee.” 

“Hey!” Lee protested, his own frown forming. He pointed at Kent before adding, “Blame him. Kent’s the one who was starin’ into space for ten minutes..” Lee grumbled more to himself, though he moved and took his spot next to Danny. 

Danny rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth quirked up - forming into a small smile. “I’m only joking, man,” He spoke, giving Lee a playful punch to the shoulder before adding, “Besides, you’re early - compared to your usual standards, anyway.” 

“Dan-nyy,” Lee whined, elongating Danny’s name as his frown deepened. Kent looked between the two, briefly raising his eyebrows as he watched the interaction. He might’ve been imagining it, and it was hard to tell (given the low light of the early morning) but Kent also noticed a light dusting of pink covering Danny’s cheeks and his eyes briefly lingering on Lee as he spoke Danny’s name. 

“What do I need to do?” Kent asked, gaining the attention of his friends. He noticed a few folding chairs were spread out across a nearby patch of grass and motioned to them. He turned back to his friends and asked, “Do I need to… sit down or something?” 

This caused both his friends to erupt in a fit of laughter, Lee reaching to grab Danny’s shoulder to keep himself from toppling over. Kent’s face contorted in confusion. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at both of them. What was so funny all of a sudden? Did he tell a joke without realizing it? 

“What’s so funny?” Kent asked, his confusion growing even further as the laughter continued. He added, “Was it something I said?” 

Lee was the first to compose himself - if you could call it that. Truthfully, he could barely manage to speak two words without laughing even harder. He gripped his sides and shook his head. Glancing up at Kent, he finally spoke, “You’re too funny, Kent. That was a great joke.” 

Kent quickly found out what was “so funny”. A rush of thirty or forty cadets crammed into the once vast clearing, quickly filling up the space. However, the seats still remained empty as the cadets formed neat lines behind them. Kent glanced over at his friends, though they had already begun walking towards their respective spots. He yelped before quickly following, taking an open spot at the end of the line. 

The ceremony was quite boring and tediously long (lasting roughly an hour and thirty minutes). Kent almost dozed off several times and had to pinch himself to stay awake. He was also pretty sure he only retained half of what was being said, but he managed to get through it. After the ceremony, Kent was given some personalized uniforms (thankfully, the borrowed one was starting to itch) and learned his schedule.

He spent his first week flailing and desperately trying to keep up with the harsh training regime, but soon got the hang of it. He even started developing a small amount of muscle (which he was grateful for, as it helped him adjust to the training even better. Kent couldn’t count the times he had groggily walked back to the cabin and promptly passed out - more often using Lee’s bed instead of his own because he was too fatigued to climb the rickety ladder.) 

That was back in April. Now, three months later, Kent no longer felt exhausted by the daily tasks and even found himself looking forward to his duties. They seemed to get easier as the days passed and he was thankful to have some structure to his days. 

One morning, Kent had woken early - as was becoming his usual - and began writing another letter to Jodi. Being away from her for these months was starting to take a toll on him (and he found some nights he was only able to sleep with her hair tie cradled next to his chest). He missed her deeply. Plus, he was curious how things were back in the city. So, he busied himself by attempting to write his thoughts down. However, he noticed the sound of distant footsteps.

Kent’s curiosity seemed to get the better of him. Who else would be awake at this hour? Usually, it was just Kent and the early morning patrolman - whose footsteps Kent would recognize anywhere. These footsteps seemed different, almost panicked. 

Kent placed down his notepad and carefully descended from his top bunk. He glanced around, making sure he hadn’t accidentally woken anyone, before silently creeping down the hallway - following the direction of the footsteps. Kent wasn’t sure what he expected to find, so he prepared for the worst. 

Bracing himself, he rounded the corner and entered the cabin’s common area. A look of surprise washed over Kent’s face as he looked at the figure standing in front of him. 

“Danny?” He asked, carefully approaching the other person. 

“Yoba, you scared me,” Danny replied, grabbing his chest - likely to ease his racing heart. 

“What are you doing awake?” Kent asked once again, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m usually the only one up at this time..” He continued, his brows furrowing together. 

Danny shrugged, though he looked a bit embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before speaking, “I usually try to leave early.. It’s.. um… awkward seeing everyone change, you know?” 

Kent nodded. He understood that feeling all too well. That was part of the reason he enjoyed the moments before everyone woke up - everything seemed easier to deal with, and it was far less awkward. 

“Hey, Kent?” Danny asked, nervously fidgeting with his collar as he waited for a response. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Kent responded. He walked over to Danny’s side of the room and leaned against the arm of a nearby couch, turning to give Danny his full attention. 

“You’re from the city, right?” Danny questioned, moving to sit next to Kent on the couch - except on the actual cushion, not the arm. 

Kent nodded once again. He wanted to talk to Danny about that, anyway. He knew Danny was from the city (and that he was Jodi’s brother) but couldn’t seem to find the right time or place to bring it up.

“How were things… when you left, I mean,” Danny asked, a small embarrassed look crossing over his face. 

“Fine, I guess?” Kent answered, shrugging. There wasn’t much to say: it was pretty much the same as he’s always known it. Kent wasn’t paying much attention to the city itself, anyway. He was too busy being enamored by Jodi. He was curious as to why Danny was bringing this up, so he spoke again, “Why do you ask, anyway?” 

“My sister sends me letters sometimes,” Danny explained. He let out a small sigh and spoke sadly, “I miss the city. I miss my family.” 

Kent nodded. He understood that, too. The city was the only home he’s ever known. He’s never been away from it for this long, either. His chest felt heavy as a large wave of homesickness washed over him. 

“Me too,” Kent confided, a small, sad smile spreading across his lips. 

“I feel like I’ve missed so much over the last year,” Danny said, the sadness still present in his voice. He looked at Kent, a regretful look covering his face as he spoke once again, “My little sister got married and I wasn’t there. What kind of brother doesn’t go to his sister’s wedding?” 

A guilty look crossed Kent’s face. He glanced down at the hair tie on his wrist before looking back at Danny. He hesitated, wondering if he should really do this, before asking, “Did she say to who? Or tell you his name..?” 

Danny shook his head. “No. All she said was that I’d ‘meet him soon’,” He grumbled, a frustrated pout forming over his lips. 

After a while, Danny looked back at Kent and his eyes seemed to light up, as if he’d just remembered something and it gave him an idea. 

“Kent, you were in the city a few months ago, right?” Danny asked, reaching over to grab Kent’s arm hopefully.

“Yes..” Kent answered. He gulped as he looked at Danny’s hopeful face. 

“So, you could tell me who my sister married, right?” Danny piped up. He looked at Kent once again, practically bouncing with hopefulness before adding, “Did you hear anything about weddings before you left? Maybe one including a ‘Jodi Smith’?” 

“Danny..” Kent started, pursing his lips together. He looked at Danny’s hopeful face and felt even guiltier. Kent sighed, deciding he didn’t want to lie to Danny - he was his friend, after all, so he nodded. 

“Great!” Danny spoke, gripping Kent’s arm even tighter with excitement, “Can you tell me who it was?” 

Kent thought for a moment. This was definitely not how he expected his morning to turn out. He hadn’t planned on being interrogated. Plus, Kent didn’t know how Danny would react. Kent’s lips formed a thin line as he continued hesitating. Eventually, he gulped before speaking softly, “It was me.” 

“What?” 

“It was me, Danny,” Kent confirmed, speaking a bit louder. He reached beneath his shirt, untucking the small chain that held his wedding ring (Kent elected to wear the ring on a necklace rather than his hand to avoid losing it) before holding it up for Danny to see. He spoke once again, “I’m married to your sister.” 

“Oh,” Danny spoke, his face remaining expressionless. He looked away from Kent and went silent, immersing himself in his thoughts. After a few minutes of awkward silence between the two, Kent began trying to apologize, but he was quickly cut off. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Danny asked, a small amount of hurt coating his words. He looked back at Kent and his expression seemed to droop. 

“I could never find the right time,” Kent admitted. He released a small sigh before placing a gentle hand on Danny’s shoulder, “But I always wanted to tell you. I tried… several times.” 

Danny nodded, though he seemed to be mulling over Kent’s words. He looked at Kent, his top lip curving upward in anger. His eyes flashed with a small fire and Kent gulped. He knew Jodi’s brothers were protective of her, but he hoped that it wouldn’t matter - he never imagined he would run into (let alone become friends with) one of them. Kent tensed as he waited Danny’s next words, bracing for the worst. Instead, Danny simply asked. 

“Do you love her?” 

Kent nodded, reaching up and clasping his fingers around his wedding ring. A small, content smile forming on his lips. He looked back at Danny, nodding once again before saying, “More than anything.” 

Danny seemed content with this answer, all his previous anger leaving his body. Kent relaxed, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“What about you, Danny?” Kent asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked the other up and down, “Have you ever been in love?” 

Danny’s face heated up at the question. He sputtered, embarrassed. However, he glanced longingly at the room to his left. Kent smiled to himself before placing a gentle, reassuring pat on the back of Danny’s shoulder. 

“You should tell him.” 

“What..?” Danny asked, more embarrassment creeping into his features. 

“I see how you look at him, you know,” Kent spoke, looking up at his friend once again. He smiled once again, pulling Danny close and playfully ruffling his hair. “It’s the same way I look at my wife, man,” He teased. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about..” Danny denied, gently pushing himself away from Kent’s teasing. 

“Come on, Dan,” Kent spoke once again, giving his friend a knowing look. He shook his head lightly, a playful smile crossing his lips as he continued, “You can’t fool me. I know you like him.” 

“Fine,” Danny conceded, rolling his eyes and giving Kent a playful shove. His cheeks warmed once again and he smiled to himself before adding, “Maybe I do. But it doesn’t matter, anyway.. Lee isn’t.. He wouldn’t…like me.” 

Kent frowned slightly. He moved and placed a reassuring hand on Danny’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He glanced up at him, a look of determination crossing his features, before speaking, “You’ll never know unless you try, Danny.” 

“Besides, you’ll always regret it if you don’t.” 

Danny nodded. He thought about Kent’s words, a wide smile forming on his lips. Danny reached over and pulled Kent into a tight, brotherly hug. 

“Thanks, Kent. That means a lot,” Danny spoke once he pulled away from the hug, his mood seeming much brighter than before. He thought for a moment more and determination seemed to wash over him. He held a firm fist in front of himself and nodded, “I’ll talk to him later today.”

[rain-world-positivity-blog]

im going to bombard you with some random qs if thats ok!

what food do you think iterators and scugs would like if they existed irl?

tulip-anon🌷

Wow! Hi, you’re my first named anon that’s cool! It’s totally okay to spam me with questions, headcanons, positive confessions, OC lore dumps, fic recommendations, just whatever really!

Now, let me think of this a little! (I’ll do everyone I think, for fun~)

Moon - she’s giving me sushi and seafood vibes, but I also think Moon would like herbal teas and stuff too. I bet she’d also enjoy tanghulu (Chinese candied fruit on a stick, very popular in Korea too! My favourite kind is mandarin heheh). I feel like she’d like tuna sushi the most out of all her favourites though!

Pebbles - this guy gives me depressed microwave meal vibes, like sad overdone rustlers chicken burger. Okay but on a serious note Pebbles is a soup guy you can’t convince me otherwise. Give this man his broth! I bet he’d really enjoy a chicken soup with some crusty garlic bread.

NSH - edibles Nah, this man subsides off coffee alone! No milk, no sugar, just coffee. Also a fan of sour candies than make you almost cry. He’d also be the one guy to just make unholy food combinations at 3am, but if we just want to stay simple? Mac n cheese. Can’t go wrong with that!

Suns - spicy food!! They’re the kind to slurp down those super hot noodles that burn your mouth and hurt your tummy and make you cry except their spice tolerance is ELITE! People will be signing away their lives and they’re heaping in more hot sauce. Ramen enjoyer.

Wind - hmm, I dunno about Wind to be honest! Wind does give me simple meal vibes. Probably snacks on those protein bars that taste like cardboard but thinks they taste good. Has cereal for lunch every day and not even the nice kind. Flavourless and unseasoned ass food.

Innocence - cake, macarons, cookies, diabetes. This iterator has never even seen a vegetable.

Sliver - I think she’d enjoy pasta! Like creamy and cheesy pasta. There’s a place near me that does truffle cheesy spaghetti with mixed seafood. She’d like that!

Now for the slugcats, didn’t put that much thought into these just went off vibes 😅

Survivor - marshmallows and white chocolate!

Monk - eats whole lemons on purpose while maintains direct eye contact

Hunter - fried chicken, especially hot wings

Gourmand - Gourm enjoys all food as long as it’s made with love! But homemade bread is the big favourite here!

Artificer - steak. It’s either so overdone it’s charcoal or so raw it’s trying to run away. Depends on the vibes

Rivulet - cotton candy and menthol sweets so minty they burn

Spearmaster - protein shake enjoyer, really likes the shitty banana flavour

Saint - ginger cookies and chocolate chip ice cream

Enot/Inv - monster energy and chilli heatwave Doritos, the meal of gamers

Watcher - since we know little about this guy… untoasted white bread, salted. (I used to eat this… don’t ask)

[convexicalcrow]

Love how Pharaoh Cub and Scar's relationship is in your stories. Defiantly want to see Scar being smug when he wins against the Pharaoh, only for it to vanish when he still gets dominated by that man. lol. (Side note, can I ask for some details on the Pharaoh's personality vs Cub's? And in how they differ in treating people?)

Oh yes, when I have the last chapter of the first part of the Lost Prince AU posted tomorrow tomorrow, I'll have to get back to the Pharaoh TCG fic, now that Scar's finally won. I have a few ideas brewing. >:D

As for the Pharaoh vs Cub, I have some thoughts. Here I'm talking just about them as characters and how I tend to write them. And this does touch on shippy things and D/s dynamics but more to illustrate the differences, just as a head's up for ppl not comfy with that kind of thing. <3

in the context of the Pharaoh as his own separate being, he's very... domineering, in a way. He's a god, of course he's better than everyone else. He knows his own power and how to use it. This is not to say he's just a tyrant, because he's not. He just demands respect and will punish anyone who fails to give it. In his land, in his pyramids, the Pharaoh's rule is absolute and you will obey him. But he will be sweet to those he cares about and loves. Even in submission to, say, Beef, it's a choice, a command, he's setting the rules of their engagement and their dynamic so he gets what he wants out of it.

also ofc he possesses Cub, he IS Cub, he knows what that boy likes ffs. XD

Cub isn't like that. He's more of a brat. Maybe he'll obey, but maybe he won't. He does his own thing, but it's not coming from a sense of divine authority, of being over everyone else. He's just entertaining himself. Cub's the 'seek forgiveness rather than ask permission' kind of brat (most of the time anyway). He's also not a mouthy, loud brat either. He's the quiet type, the ones you don't really notice until you realise the mess they've caused lol. Not really interested in leadership; more interested in building secret tunnels and stealing artefacts lol. He's a sneaky boy. :D But he also cares a lot too. He knows their boundaries and where to draw the line, because he's silly but he's not stupid.

Unlike the Pharaoh who is in control when he submits, for Cub, he really isn't. At least, obedience is earned (or taken) by higher powers, whether that's King Ren or Scar or the Vex or the Pharaoh, it doesn't matter. For the Pharaoh, there is no higher power than him; for Cub, that isn't the case. Lack of control is what he likes.

You can contrast this nicely with Cub and Scar and their relationship with the Vex. For Scar, there's a more business-like feel to their arrangement. He doesn't kill Vexes bc he's not allowed, and they give him all the riches he could ever want and place him in positions of power like the Mayorship. For Cub, it's totally different. It's subservience to a higher power, a possessive power, something deserving of worship and respect. It brings power too, and magic, and prosperity, as long as he gives his body to the Vex to do with as they please.

This is why Scar is the Power, and Cub is the Vessel. Scar represents the power and magic of the Vex, and Cub is what that power fills and is channelled through. Adding False as the Will gives that magic purpose and direction. She makes their work more effective, though they've done plenty on their own.

The Pharaoh would never bow to the Vex the way Cub does. He has his own magic that is just as powerful, if not moreso, than that of the Vex. He sees his Vex magic as useful, but he has better tools at his disposal, so he uses them instead. After all, he is a god. Gods do not bend their knee to silly creatures like Vex. But he does lean on it a little with Cub, because Cub is weak to it like Scar is.

The Pharaoh's magic is also very hot and fiery, whereas the Vex prefer ice and coldness. They are opposites in that regard. The Pharaoh's magic simply burns all the effectiveness of Vex magic away, which is why he doesn't really use it himself. He's the son of Ra, the sun god. Ice magic is useless against him. The Vex can't possess a god either; he's not a player, in the way Cub was a player before he was Pharaoh. I mean, he IS, but he also really isn't. The Kingly Ka, the divine soul of Horus that makes someone Pharaoh, is what makes him divine. He's no longer simply human after that point.

The Kingly Ka was never passed on to young Cub tho. It's not young Cub we see as the Pharaoh in the TCG arena, but old Cub. Pharaoh Cub. The one who is divine. It's on the card, too. Cub is not the Pharaoh, he's a separate being now. He died at the end of s7 after building a pyramid, which is traditionally the tomb for a king, and s8 is Cub's metaphorical journey through the afterlife before he returns for s9. This is me getting back on my Book of Caverns bullshit, but it is the title of a real Ancient Egyptian book of the afterlife, and what did Cub spend s8 building? A canyon filled with caverns! The moon crashing into the earth can be seen as his way of understanding his death and transformation/rebirth into his young skin in s9. bc that's how I'm dealing with the whole 's8 was a simulation' lore from RenDoc.

Anyway. I think that's enough brainrot for now. I don't want this getting any more unhinged than it already is lol. :D If you have further questions, please do ask! I'd love to ramble about this some more. <3